Covered In Paint
by Fiery Pixie Stik
Summary: He was probably one of the best painters of his generation, hidden under the radar. Once burned from falling for a model, he seeks to destroy someone else on the canvas, until that person ends up being Quatre. 3x4
1. Rumors

Okay, so this is the first story I'm posting in a long time. It's gonna be done in chapters. It was inspired by 'The Arabian Doll,' by Shine Q. I've got a lot written, and I will post another chapter in a few days when I have the time. Be gentle with me. I always start out strong, let me know when I'm straying too far from reality.

The music from the piano resounded through the building. It was a sad tune, Moonlight Sonata. Duo and Heero looked at the wall as though they could see the boy playing.

"Why does he play that all the time?" Heero asked. He had just moved in with Duo, and hadn't really noticed the music before.

"He's really sad," Duo replied.

"What happened to him?" Heero asked.

"He was in love. And his boyfriend was in some accident. A Chinese boy I believe," Duo replied. "He used to play for an hour a day, but happier, beautiful songs… Since last month he just plays that song over and over. I'm surprised you didn't ask me about it earlier."

"I hadn't really noticed. It's almost like I can feel the pain in the music," Heero whispered. He looked sympathetically at the wall.

"Good musicians can put their emotion into their instruments," Duo remarked. "I'll tell you, there where times when I heard him play that I snapped out of bad moods. I would just listen to him play and mellow out."

"Maybe you'll introduce me?" Heero asked.

"I don't know him," Duo said.

"Then, how do you know those other things?" Heero asked.

"Well the people in this building tend to spread rumors. I don't know if they're true or not but…" Duo replied. Heero shook his head and put an arm around the braided boy.

"Let's get out of here for a while huh?" Heero asked. He didn't want to start feeling any worse for this kid than he already was. Duo nodded and they left to get something to eat.


	2. The Coffee Shop

Well as it turns out, I haven't passed out from work, so I'm putting this up. (Wufei isn't dead. ) It's a little longer than the last one, and I'm so happy I got reviews Thank you!

His fingers traced gently over the keys as he played. His eyes were closed but he knew where every key was that played every note. A lot of the neighbors asked him why he was playing this song in particular over and over. He usually changed the subject. They asked if it was the Chinese boy. He laughed.

"His name was Wufei. He was just a good friend. He left to get his own place because he met a girl. It was usually him playing the piano, because I only know how to play depressing songs," he would joke if they persisted. In truth he was an artist. He could only paint when he was depressed, when he was sad… It was the only time he thought his work came out truly great. How could he tell anyone that though? He finished the song and closed the piano. He had to find a model.

He was always looking for blondes, but none replaced Zechs. Zechs was a man of 22 compared to his 17 then. They spent a year together, and he had made millions off the paintings. It wasn't the money he wanted, it was the model. He had been seduced, been used and hurt. Wufei helped him move to a new city in a new state and had lived with him for almost 2 years. He was nearly 21 now. He put on his black trench coat and pulled the collar up, sinking his head down so it covered his ears. It looked like it was snowing outside, but he hated to use scarves.

He figured he would get a cup of hot chocolate at the coffee place a few blocks away and look for a model. There were always a lot of girls looking to model, but he thought it was mostly to sleep with the more famous artists around these parts. A lot of popular contemporary artists made their homes in New York City, perhaps that's why Wufei had taken him here? Los Angeles was a lot different. It was always warm…

He thought back to meeting Zechs at the beach. He was lying in a thong on a towel in the sun. He was a beautiful guy, long white blonde hair, crystal blue eyes, soft seductive voice, muscular body… He was a perfect model. The one he wanted to try in several mediums. He had half smiled when he'd asked, but agreed to come. On their 4th week he'd started taking off his clothes. It wasn't the first time, but that was too painful to think about. He thought about one of the times later on that Zechs had seduced him…

_"It's always so warm in here," Zechs said._

_"It's not as easy to sketch or paint when the A.C. is on," he replied._

_"Do you get too stiff?" Zechs whispered into his ear from behind. Zechs was a good two feet taller than him and he sensed the desire._

_"My fingers, when they're cold, I can't really work," he whispered back, swallowing hard._

_"You must be hot too," the older man whispered, running his fingers down his chest, unbuttoning each button slowly. Zechs received no resistance and they fucked many times after that as well as a couple of times before._ Zechs even started staying longer and longer after this time though, sleeping over after the sketching was done. But then one day Zechs stopped coming. His work turned dark and he almost killed himself. Wufei stepped in and took him to New York.

He wanted to find the perfect model and destroy him. He wanted to mar the innocence of a blonde with his paint. To destroy the beauty in him and make something dark that reflected his feelings, his hatred and pain for Zechs… His paintings of Zechs in pastels and pencil had sold decent. It was the dark paintings he'd done after Zechs had left that had ensured his future in the field. He had gotten decent money to live off of from earlier things, things from high school that had gotten awards and various recognitions, but this was different.

They had put all his paintings in a gallery and held a show. All the pieces were sold within two hours of the opening. He hadn't stayed to talk with or discuss any of his art. He didn't feel the need. His thoughts, emotions, explanations lay inside the paintings, and if they couldn't feel it they didn't deserve them. He got a check and he and Wufei had moved to a cozy apartment building on the outskirts of the big part of the city. They taught each other their talents. When Wufei had his piano shipped over, it would not fit in their small home. They moved right into the city into a decent building that encouraged the arts. A lot of actors and actresses that performed the plays in the theatres on Broadway and the like were in the building. Others were just rich students attending art school at their parents' request. Others still were attending music schools.

He cared nothing for all that. He only cared in convincing Wufei that he was mentally stable. Enough so, to be living alone. The last painting in the set from L.A. had a lot of red. He had cut himself across the chest and used the blood to create his masterpiece. If that piece didn't reach out to people, he wasn't sure what would. It easily made the most money. Wufei had caught him finishing that one and cleaned him up. He decided the best thing to do was get out of L.A. Truth be told, he didn't feel much different, and he was still depressed over Zechs.

A girl from behind the counter nodded at him, and got his hot chocolate ready for him. He sat at a small table close to the cash register. He normally sat on the stools at the table against the wall on the far end of the shop, but all the seats were taken today.

"I would've saved a seat for you if I'd known you were coming," the girl said. Her nametag said Hilde. She was always bright and cheery, always going out of her way to try and make him smile. Often time she succeeded and they talked about the weather or about someone famous being in the city. "You know, you still haven't told me your name," she said putting the cup down with extra marshmallows.

"You never told me yours," he replied, sipping the aromatic drink. Just the smell made him feel warm inside. It had only been snowing lightly, but it was still freezing outside.

"That's true, but I have a name tag. Most of these other guys in here, they don't tell me either, just tell me names of their paintings. They don't usually turn out famous or anything, just egotistical," Hilde replied.

"Trowa Barton," Trowa offered her with a hand. Hilde stared for a moment.

"Are you a painter?" Hilde asked. Trowa nodded slowly, not understanding how she was acting. It's not like he considered himself anything special. "I've got a friend, Catherine that lives in L.A."

"My sister," Trowa mused. It would figure she'd get brought up. When he was in middle school and she was in high school, their parents had split up. His mother took him and his father 

had taken her. His mom changed their names back to her maiden name to spite him and kept them from seeing each other. He was afraid that Catherine would be ashamed of him if she knew what he'd done, and more so that he was gay…

"She said she went to that exhibit so she could talk with you. She wanted to keep in touch, because she was sure you'd be going places with your art. After she got in though, you'd already gone. She said she could feel you though, your happiness and your pain from the art hung up on the walls. She said you're amazing," Hilde rambled.

"I haven't painted in a long time," Trowa said softly. He did write his number and email on a napkin for her though. "Give this to my sister. I can't go back to L.A. It was threatening my health…" he said, moving to leave already. He didn't want to get into personal business with a coffee store clerk… It wasn't that she was a bad kid; he just didn't like to get to know people anymore.

"I will. But please, sit down and finish your hot chocolate. It'll just go to waste. I'll leave you alone, I promise. She said you were a loner," Hilde replied, smiling and laughing a bit before hopping back behind the counter. Trowa hesitated but sat back down. He watched the snow falling outside. It was much like the model he was trying to find. Delicate and soft, wandering freely through the streets. He was so busy watching the snow he did not notice the thin pale blonde enter the shop.

"Hey Q," Hilde said.

"Tea please," Quatre asked sweetly. He sat at a table next to Trowa's.

"All of you are coming in the same time today," Hilde called out as she got his tea ready.

"What do you mean?" Quatre asked.

"Well my 'brother' and his boyfriend just left. Trowa came in. You came in. I'm waiting on like 4 more people and my day will be over," Hilde said with a laugh.

"The regulars I assume?" Quatre asked. Hilde nodded as she placed the cup down. He handed her the money and she stuffed it in her apron until she went to the register. "So you finally found out the name of the other regular huh?"

"Yeah, he's right there," Hilde said in a whisper. Trowa heard what was being said, but was oblivious to it. Quatre turned red. "What are you up to today?"

"Just teaching some lessons. My dad called to fight with me again. He wants me to take over his business, but my talent lies in music. I finally got a piano delivered. They were very angry," Quatre replied.

"Angry? Who?" Hilde asked.

"Well I live on the 21st floor of the Silver Garden apartment building. It wasn't an easy task," Quatre said.

"That's an arts appreciation building right?" Hilde asked.

"How did you know?" Quatre asked.

"My 'brother' and his boyfriend are living there. They're both actors," Hilde replied.

"What floor are they on?" Quatre asked.

"14," Hilde replied.

"Yeah, I don't see how I'd run into them, unless by chance in the elevator," Quatre joked. "So he's not your real brother?"

"Well he was the son of the people living in the upstairs apartment of my house on Long Island. Both our parents thought we'd end up getting married and living happily ever after. Duo is gay though, and I just never felt that way for him. He protected me all through school and he's still looking out for me while I'm going to school here. I'm thinking about majoring in teaching, in 

elementary school. They need a lot of teachers here in the city anyhow, and I love living here. It wouldn't be a big stretch to stay," Hilde explained.

"My dad keeps hoping I'm going through a phase. That this 'music stuff' will pass and I'll take business in school instead of music composition. It's his own fault really. He's the one that pushed for me to be involved in the arts instead of sports. Oh, damn, it's almost 5! I've got a lesson back at my apartment," Quatre said, standing.

"Teaching some hot young girl that you can seduce later on?" Hilde joked.

"More like a teen girl who can't afford the tutors in the city. She's in middle school. Her grandfather just passed away and left a piano to her. She doesn't want anyone to know she's learning. They're celebrating his life on his birthday in a few months, throwing a huge party in his memory. This is going to be her gift. Besides, I lean your brother's way. Another thing that will prompt my father to write me out of his will," Quatre explained, joking at the end. He took a long sip from his cup and rushed out, waving goodbye. When he was outside, Trowa and him made eye contact. Deep blue met emerald green and Trowa could not move. Quatre hurried off, but Trowa finally absorbed the conversation that had been going on.


	3. Making Friends

Ok I'm sure I made some weird mistake in here somewhere, but I read it like 3 times and can't find it. So if you do, I apologize. Sorry for the delay in the chapter I went on vacation, then it just wouldn't let me upload for a few days! I've been so pissed! Anyway, here is the next chapter, a little short, but I'll put another one up by Saturday! I promise!

"Hilde, what was his name?" Trowa asked, turning around to face her.

"Quatre," she replied. "He's a regular, just the same as you. He's a little more frequent than you are. He'll be back tomorrow, probably around 4," Hilde said.

"Did he say Silver Garden?" Trowa asked. Hilde nodded slowly and cracked a smile.

"Why do you ask?" she teased.

"That's the building I'm in. On 14," Trowa replied.

"Oh Duo is on floor 14 with Heero! You might know them. Duo has a braid, and Heero's very quiet. He doesn't really talk to anyone except me and Duo," Hilde rambled, feeling special that Trowa was now talking to her.

"What floor did he say he was on?" Trowa asked, now standing at the counter, leaning over it.

"Why are you so interested in Quatre anyway?" Hilde asked.

"He's perfect. He'd just the one I've been looking for to start painting again," Trowa said almost breathless. Hilde's eyes widened at the prospect. She would love to see some of his painting.

"If I tell you, will you promise to let me come see some of the paintings before you sell them?" Hilde asked. Trowa sat back in confusion. He wouldn't have anything finished for at least a month, and that was only if the blonde agreed to model for him… He would probably need her help to convince Quatre. It probably wasn't wise to just show up and start knocking on doors on his floor to find him…

"If you promise me something," Trowa requested. Hilde nodded. "Convince him to be my model. We live in the same building, and I don't go out much. I'm in apartment 1412. He can come meet me anytime he likes," Trowa said.

"You live _right_ next door to Duo and Heero! They live in 1414. I can't believe you've never met them!" Hilde said. She was purposely avoiding the subject.

"I don't really like people all that much. I had a friend living with me and since he left there are all these rumors going around. I don't like people to assume things about me. I'll go introduce myself to them right now if you want, but please help me Hilde," Trowa begged. Hilde blushed as Trowa leaned over the counter further and held her hand.

"Yeah, sure. It just might be a little weird for him. You'll have to guide him through everything, and I know a lot of people think it's tedious," Hilde answered.

"No. It's the best thing. You get someone with fresh blood, someone you can draw or sculpt or paint in the rawest form. Something is stolen from a model's first artist, something no artist can ever claim from them again. It's a lot like being a virgin I guess," Trowa said, getting flustered as he tried to explain it.

"I think I understand. I'll give him a call in a few hours. He's gonna be teaching a lesson for almost 3 hours today. Would you like me to call you and let you know?" Hilde asked, motioning toward the napkin he'd given her.

"You have his number?" Trowa asked.

"Yeah, I was toying with the idea of taking violin. He was going to teach me, but I got busy with essays and finals. I'm sure he wouldn't mind me calling. Would you mind me calling? I won't if you'll be bothered," Hilde said.

"I guess it's not a big deal. Just, you know, don't…" Trowa began, not wanting to hurt the girl

"I'm not gonna call you up all hours of the night or when I'm bored. If we become better friends here, then maybe I'll change my mind. Until then, I will respectfully burn this after I call and send it to Cathy," Hilde said, crossing a finger over her heart.

"Thank you," Trowa said. He took out 20 dollars and put it on the counter. "For the drink, and your help. I know I don't usually tip you, but I'd like to today," Trowa said when she stared at the money. She smiled brightly.

"Your conversations are what I value over a tip. Besides, you'd be broke if you tipped me every other day you're here," Hilde joked. "But I am looking for a little extra money to get some clothes. So yes, I'll take this today, but don't think you can just give me money every time you ask a favor of me. You'll have to get around to being my friend if you want anymore favors."

"Deal," Trowa said, putting his hand out. Hilde shook it and smiled.

"Now finish your hot chocolate. I'll get you another one, my treat, while you wait," Hilde offered. He graciously accepted. There was a rush of people seeking to wind down after work, so for a while she got distracted. She sent him home, assuring him she'd call Quatre and call him later. As he got off the elevator and walked toward his room he paused. He wasn't sure how much time he had to kill, but it couldn't hurt to introduce himself to Hilde's brother. That girl was just too innocent and nice. Duo, he recalled, must be the only reason she's still walking around with that light in her eyes.

"Yes?" he heard someone call as he knocked on the door. He heard a lot of movement and some giggles before a boy with violet eyes opened the door. "Can I help you?" he asked, squinting at Trowa, like he recognized him.

"I'm Trowa Barton, I'm your neighbor next door. I'm friends with Hilde, she told me to introduce myself," Trowa said, feeling like an idiot. The boy's hair and clothes were disheveled, they'd obviously been…

"Oh! I've seen you talking with her in the coffee shop! We were just wrestling. You know, boys will be boys," Duo joked. He opened the door wider. "Would you like to come in?"

"Not now, I'm waiting for a phone call. Hilde's doing me a big favor, and she thought it was funny that we lived next door to each other and have never met," Trowa replied.

"I'm Heero, and this is Duo," Heero said, putting an arm around Duo's waist. "You're the one playing the Moonlight Sonata every day huh?"

"Yes. My best friend Wufei used to play all the time. He's in the process of moving out. He helped me through a very hard time in my life, it's really his piano. He taught me how to play just a few weeks ago."

"Wow you learned in just a few weeks? I hear it takes years to perfect a song like that," Duo said.

"I have a talent for the arts," Trowa said.

"So Wufei, he used to play all those songs huh? Why is he leaving, if you don't mind me asking?" Duo said, looking regretful at prying.

"No, it's fine. Wufei met a girl. He's really just moving out of here and moving in with her for a while. He's going to come back if it doesn't work out. It probably won't last forever. Most romances never do. People jump into relationships too quickly. He's known her just six months," Trowa rambled. He didn't realize how much he was saying, or that he might be offending the couple before him.

"We've been dating a good 3 years. We're hoping it'll work out," Heero said to bring Trowa out of his rant.

"I'm… I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to offend…" Trowa began. He quickly realized why Heero was being so hostile. "Actually, your sister is trying to help me get a boy in the building to model for me."

"You paint?" Heero asked.

"Is it a purely business relationship you're looking for?" Duo asked, trying to get Heero to back off. He got very defensive when he thought someone looked down on them for being gay. He knew that was not what Trowa was doing.

"I had a bad experience with a previous model. He seduced me and then just up and left. I thought he loved me… That's why Wufei brought me here…" Trowa revealed. Heero bit his lip as Duo glared at him.

"You happy now?" he whispered, shoving Heero back into the apartment.

"I'm sorry," Heero said, wandering back into the house.

"Me too, I'm sorry," Duo assured him. "For your…loss and for Heero."

"Don't worry about it. I was just never the type to care what anyone else thought. Your sister's changing something in me. It's probably for the best. She just makes me want to talk to people and make new friends. She's got that light in her. I'm surprised for someone who's been living in the city," Trowa said.

"She's happy that I'm here with her. I try and keep her spirits up. She's getting to be a strong independent girl. She's got that type of effect on people," Duo said with a laugh. "She's a great kid."

"Well I think for now, I'm going to retire. Perhaps I can have you over in my doorway next time," Trowa joked. Duo laughed and nodded.

"And maybe you can come in the next time," Duo joked. Trowa's phone was ringing before he got into the apartment. He rushed to answer it.

"Hello?" Trowa said.

"He said it's a weird request, but since I think you're such a good guy he's willing to try it out. He's gonna come down to meet you at 9:30 and ask to meet you again for tea tomorrow at the shop. You two can work out the times," Hilde said on the other end.

"Great. I just talked to your brother. He said you're a great girl," Trowa offered her in return. She made a small satisfied noise on the other end.

"Now you'll making 4 friends all at once, and start talking with your sister again! Are you sure you can handle that Mr. Antisocial?" Hilde kidded. Trowa laughed a little.

"I'm sure with your help it won't be a problem. Thank you so much Hilde. I feel like I have a lot to look forward to. I haven't felt that way in a long time," Trowa said softly.

"You're most welcome Mr. Barton. I'll be seeing you tomorrow," she replied. They said their goodbyes and hung up not moments before there came a soft knock on his door. He opened it and there stood the blonde. He stared into those entrancing eyes a few moments before he realized he had said nothing.

"I'm Trowa," he said, offering a hand.


	4. The Elevator

Hey guys, sorry, I know I lied. I meant to put something up on Friday. But then my wire in my power cord died, and I haven't been able to really go on the computer. I'm jumping on quick to put this up and save in my mail so I can work on it on another computer. This is probably getting corny, but oh well. I like it I 'll get to the next chapter this week tho, I promise!

"Quatre. I recognize you now," Quatre returned, shaking Trowa's hand. "I hear you're a guy who likes his solitude."

"I did up until this afternoon. There's just something about Hilde that makes everything seem… bright again for me," Trowa replied. The boy before him was a vision of innocence, even more pure than Hilde even. There was a fire burning in his eyes and a beautiful calm underneath it. He hoped to capture that. He knew that he would not be able to destroy this boy, but maybe he wouldn't have to. Zechs would be put to shame as he worked with Quatre. He would out do all his previous work with the purity of this boy, instead of the darkness Zechs had caused that nearly consumed him.

"When shall we start? Are you busy now?" Quatre asked. Trowa's lips curled into a smile. He wanted to claim Quatre in every form, perfect every medium to praise this boy. He was completely intoxicated with him already, and they'd only just met.

"Let me invite you in," Trowa offered, realizing again they were still in the hall. Quatre smiled and entered the apartment.

"Wow! You have such a beautiful piano! Would you mind if I played?" Quatre asked, possessed it seemed.

"It's not my piano, but I'm sure Wufei wouldn't mind if you played. I hear you're very good," Trowa said. Quatre opened the piano running his fingers over the keys as though they were silk, before sitting down in front of it.

"You're seeing someone? Or a roommate?" Quatre asked,

"My best friend. He was my roommate until he started seeing someone," Trowa said, coming to sit next to Quatre. He played Fur Elise. Another Beethoven fan, Trowa mused.

"This is an antique. I'm sure your friend knows that. This must have cost… Was it kept in such good condition, or was it fixed up?" Quatre asked.

"It was in fairly good condition. He fixed it up some. The cost was of no consequence. He wanted to teach me on this one," Trowa said. Quatre looked at him and smiled.

"You play as well? You must play something for me," Quatre pleaded.

"I only know depressing songs," Trowa said as Quatre finished the song.

"I don't care. I want to hear you play," Quatre said, moving Trowa's hands to the keys. Trowa sighed. "I won't look," Quatre joked, looking down at the keys. Trowa closed his eyes and began the song, fingers methodically searching out the songs to play Moonlight Sonata for the eleventh time today. Halfway through he could feel Quatre's eyes on him. He could hear Quatre's soft breathing, and his heart beating faster. It was as though he did not want to breath. He continued, moving a little closer to Quatre in the seat. As he finished he lifted his fingers gently from the keys and let his eyes open slowly. He looked at Quatre, who had tears in his eyes and rolling down his cheeks.

"What's wrong?" Trowa asked in shock.

"That…that was so beautiful. I could _feel_ that," Quatre said in shock himself. "How long have you played?"

"A few weeks," Trowa replied. Quatre's mouth fell open and his eyes grew wide.

"You're not kidding?" Quatre asked. Trowa shook his head. "People play their whole lives trying to achieve what you've got. If you're as talented as an artist as you are a musician, I fear what you will do with me," Quatre whispered.

"When I saw you walking, I had different intentions of the direction of our sessions… But just being with you now, I feel the same way for you, as you feel of my music," Trowa said, trying to describe it. Quatre blushed furiously.

"Be honest with me then. What was your original intention?" Quatre asked.

"I wanted to destroy something beautiful, twist it to make it ugly, like the hatred and pain inside me," Trowa whispered in shame, letting his head fall down.

"Someone hurt you very badly," Quatre whispered. "But I feel like I can help you. Like maybe I can heal some of those wounds."

"So do I," Trowa said looking up into Quatre's eyes. They were both feeling very emotional. Quatre traced Trowa's cheek with his thumb but Trowa suddenly felt like withdrawing.

"I'm sorry, I overstepped. Please, let's begin. What shall I do?" Quatre said, attempting to keep the boy he'd brought out with them. He had often felt like reaching out to Trowa in the coffee shop. He knew who Trowa was, and what he'd been through. His father owned 'Of Despair.' It was Trowa's last painting, the one he'd done in blood. Quatre felt the pain inside of it, almost so much that he'd been taken to the hospital for a panic attack. His father paid 5 million dollars to have that painting, and he only now felt grateful for it. He had wanted to help the artist then, and finding out it was a boy who wanted to use him as a muse now, he thanked Allah above.

"I'm short on canvases right now. I don't usually paint early on anyhow. I like to use pencils and pastels in the beginning. I've got a sketch pad. I'll go get it," Trowa informed him. As he went into the other room, Quatre smiled and sighed in relief. Trowa unbuttoned his shirt and looked in the mirror. A deep red scar ran diagonally from his right collar bone down toward his left hip. It stopped a few inches below his ribs. He ran his fingers over it. "Just don't let it get like last time. Try to keep this professional. You don't want to get hurt again." But he suddenly yearned for that touch he'd all but flinched away from. He wanted to have a personal relationship with Quatre, but now was not the time. After he had perfected the mediums, then he could let him in all the way, see his scars, his pain, and tell him everything…

"So what should I do?" Quatre asked Trowa as he rejoined him. He could tell Trowa was hiding something, he was suddenly very stressed. "Have you eaten tonight?"

"No, I usually order something…" Trowa said, remembering that he'd forgotten that in his excitement.

"Let's go out then. We can go somewhere to eat and talk some more. We'll start tomorrow," Quatre offered. Trowa felt thankful for the suggestion. The mood was too awkward here right now.

"Yeah. Do you know any good places to eat around here?" Trowa asked.

"I can think of a few," Quatre assured him. While they ate Quatre listened to Trowa, but he could not take his eyes off of him. He kept scolding himself and forcing himself to look at his food. He had wanted to be close to Trowa for such a long time, but he couldn't believe it just happened. Staring into those emerald eyes for only a second had made him exist, and one phone call had started their relationship. He had almost ruined it all by touching him…

"What's on your mind? You haven't said much," Trowa asked. Quatre smiled.

"Just working things out in my head. I'm excited. This is very different for me," Quatre replied. He picked at the remainder of his plate as they waited for the check.

"Do you think the coffee place is still open?" Trowa asked, looking at his watch.

"No, it's almost 12. Hilde probably closed at 10," Quatre answered.

"Are you two good friends?" Trowa asked.

"Well I suppose you could say that we are in a way. We're close in the shop, but I never see her outside. I was shocked to find out she'd saved my number. She tries to do so much when she gets off that she has no time. That's why she makes friends at the shop, to keep her company. She's got Duo but they barely see each other outside of the shop. It's really sad," Quatre explained.

"I'll have to stop in there more often," Trowa said thoughtfully. They paid and left, walking close together down the street. "What can we do now?"

"Not much. It's a weekday and it's kind of dangerous at night around here," Quatre replied. They decided there wasn't much to do so they took a cab back to the apartments.

"Shall I walk you to your apartment?" Trowa joked.

"If you like," Quatre said. "You can bring your sketch pad and pencils up and hang out for a while if you want."

"Alright," Trowa said. They stopped at his apartment and grabbed his things. They got back in the elevator. "What floor?" he asked.

"21," Quatre said. The doors closed and the elevator ascended. "It would be funny if we got stuck," Quatre joked.

"It would be very cliché. At least we wouldn't be bored," Trowa said, motioning to the drawing pad. They both smiled as they stared at the numbers of the floors. They kept rising much to their amused disappointment. When they got to 21, however, the doors wouldn't open. They looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"You've got to be kidding," Quatre said. He pushed the door open button a few times. He shook his head.

"Hello!" Trowa yelled, banging on the doors. They heard people shouting on the other side but couldn't tell what they were saying. They pushed other buttons to go up or down but the elevator had stopped responding. A few minutes later a voice came over the intercom telling them they were calling someone to have the elevator fixed and to stay calm.

"Well we found something else to do," Quatre joked. Trowa smiled. He opened his sketchbook and sat in one corner while Quatre sat in the other one. He rested his elbows on his knees which were pulled up to his chest. He rested his chin on his hands and looked at Trowa's shoes.

"Now just stay in that pose," Trowa said. Quatre looked up at Trowa and smiled. "You ruined it!" Trowa joked. "Look down where you were, reflecting," Trowa said, taking the box of colored pencils out of his bag. He picked up the colors that would best match Quatre's clothes, skin, eye, and hair color. For 10 minutes he just did the outlines of Quatre. He began to fill the picture in with color and darker color to imitate the shadows playing over Quatre's features. Quatre lifted his eyes to see the intensity with which Trowa was drawing him. He couldn't help but smile and blush a little. "You're not cooperating," Trowa said softly, not looking up from the paper. "Or did you want me to draw you with a blush?"

"I'm sorry," Quatre said turning an even darker shade of red. Trowa half smiled.

"It's ok. I finished your face first," Trowa assured him. Quatre laughed.

"I'll try to be better next time," Quatre said.

"I forget that you're new at this," Trowa said. "Don't worry. Eventually, you'll be an expert, and be demanding I paint you in the poses you want," Trowa assured him. He put the pencils back in the box and closed the book.

"Perhaps," Quatre replied. "May I see?" Trowa looked down at the book and held it closer to him. "Alright," Quatre said with a small laugh. Trowa handed the book over to him.

"No, I want you to see it. I just… I haven't done anything in a long time…I," Trowa whispered, eyes diverting to the floor.

"It's beautiful," Quatre softly interrupted. It was a little smoky looking, a little distorted, but it was drawn perfectly. There were no black lines for an outline, just color. There were small gray lines around him to signify he was sitting in a corner. Trowa smiled despite himself. Zechs had never asked to see his drawings; he looked at them at the end of the week usually and just smiled. He mentally smacked himself; he didn't want to think about him any more. Quatre was here now, and he wanted to help him, not destroy him.

"Thank you Quatre," he simply said. They did not talk for a long time. Quatre moved over toward Trowa and rested his head on the older boy's shoulder. Trowa put his head on Quatre's and sighed softly, happily… Quatre's smile grew wide and he nuzzled into Trowa a little. He felt Trowa tense so he stood up and stretched. "Why did you agree to model?" Trowa asked suddenly.

"There's a story behind it for sure, but I don't think now is the appropriate time. I will tell you, but not now," Quatre answered. Trowa looked at him quizzically but decided not to pursue the topic.

"What do you do?" Trowa asked instead.

"Right now I'm going to a music school," Quatre replied.

"Do you work?"

"No, I don't really have to right now. Not that I like taking money from my father… He's a rich and influential business owner. He'll realize some day soon that I never intend to go to business school. I love music too much. I think I want to be a teacher. There are a lot of private schools that have offered me jobs, and schools in the city. I may take business so I can open up my own place and hire people I know love music just as much. Even still, I hate to get my father's hopes up. He might disinherit me if not disown me," Quatre explained.

"Why?"

"I'm his only son, but I'm also the youngest of a lot of sisters… My eldest sisters have been working for him a long time, but he wants me to take over. It's a very chauvinistic thing to do… I know they love business and they could split the company up. Most of them don't want kids after growing up pretty much raising younger siblings. It's gonna be a horrible shock when he finds out I'm…"

"You're what?"

"Gay…"

"That might not be something to bring up at a family event. Once you've got your finances settled, when you can provide for yourself, then you should talk with him," Trowa suggested. Quatre rubbed the back of his neck.

"It's not like it would stay hidden for long if I got a boyfriend. The reporters snoop around every once and a while to write a story about me. There was a lie in the papers that I was disowned for going to music school. My father assured them I was going through a phase, but we didn't speak for months after that. I had to speak through sisters."

"I guess being sort of famous will do that to you. So you're not dating anyone because you're afraid it'll be in the papers?" Trowa mentally smacked himself. He must've seemed like he was hitting on Quatre.

"No. Of course I'd rather tell my dad myself, but I haven't met anyone. I went on a few blind dates with people who never found out who I really was. They were all looking to get laid… I wasn't looking for something like that." Quatre wanted to say more, but again he'd agitated Trowa twice tonight by trying to get close. Telling him, I'd date you in a minute, wasn't going to be the most comfortable subject. To his surprise Trowa continued his thought.

"Would you ever date someone like me?" Trowa asked. His hair was hiding his face. "I mean, if you got to know me?"

"Well do you mean would I date someone like you or actually you?" Quatre teased.

"Never mind," Trowa answered in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to tease you," Quatre assured. He kneeled in front of Trowa and smiled warmly. "I think I would date an artist or a musician if anyone. Someone who enjoys the arts in all forms. Art is life, and I love life with all my heart. I'd want someone who at least appreciated music."

"We've both got secrets," Trowa remarked, pulling his feet to his chest.

"That doesn't necessarily mean something bad," Quatre said.

"It does for me… I don't want to…" Trowa began. He wanted to tell Quatre about Zechs but he didn't want him to be scared away so quickly. Maybe if he got to know him better first, it would be easier to hear. He might understand better and stay despite it. Maybe that was selfish of him…

"I think for now we should both keep our secrets. There will be a time to explain everything in the future," Quatre whispered. Trowa was thankful that they already got along so well. The blonde could almost read his thoughts, and knew when he had said too much or did something wrong. They'd only been together a few hours…

"What time is it anyway?" Trowa asked with a yawn.

"Allah! It's almost 3!" Quatre remarked loudly.

"We're sorry for the wait! We were calling people for almost an hour before anyone called back. The guy just arrived. Please come see us at the front desk when the elevator is fixed," a voice said on the intercom. It sounded like a girl who was nervous. Did she think they were going to sue them?

"It might be five minutes or five hours now," Trowa joked. He took out his sketch book and made rough sketches of Quatre's face. He wanted to get acquainted with drawing him.

"Shall I stay still?" Quatre asked.

"No, I'm just sketching. I may move around to draw from different perspectives though," Trowa replied.

"What shall we talk about now? Something about you?" Quatre asked.

"Hmm," Trowa said, wondering what he could even say. His whole life had been one big slap in the face until now. Wufei was his only good friend. The only person he ever loved walked out on him. His parents had split up, and split Catherine and him up…

"When did you know you wanted to be an artist?" Quatre asked to break the ice. He could tell that Trowa had a lot of painful memories…

"I was always doing drawings of my sister. She brought me to her high school and introduced me to the art teachers. They said I was brilliant. She started to take me out with her all the time to show me off because she was proud of me," Trowa began. He stood up by the doors, holding the pad in one hand as he sketched with the other. Quatre sensed they didn't see each other anymore, perhaps they'd fought… or worse still she had died…

"You don't have to go on," Quatre said softly, angry that he could only seem to bring out bad memories.

"No, it's not a big deal. Before I got to go to high school our parents split up. My dad took claim on her, and mom took claim on me. They both moved us out of our house to apartments. They had a bitter divorce and they never let us see each other. Mom changed our last name back to Barton, her maiden name. Hilde and I actually started talking today because she knows Catherine. She's been looking for me apparently. I gave Hilde my number and email to give her. I'm nervous, but excited," Trowa finished. Quatre smiled.

"Do you think she'll come visit New York, or will you go back to where you lived before?" Quatre asked.

"She'll probably be on the plane as soon as she hears from Hilde," Trowa joked. Quatre smiled as Trowa put the pad away again. Quatre curled up on the floor and yawned. Trowa stood against the wall and crossed his arms. Quatre talked a few minutes more but then fell asleep. "You must not stay up much," Trowa said sitting down next to the boy. He moved Quatre so that his head rested on his leg. Absently he ran his fingers through Quatre's hair.

_"I like it when you play with my hair," Zechs said. They were wrapped in blankets and the blonde man was resting on his chest. Trowa smiled._

_"Good, because it helps me relax," Trowa replied. Zechs looked up and caught his lips in a kiss. He crawled on top of the boy, who wrapped his arms more than willingly around the blonde._

_"Trowa you drive me crazy," Zechs whispered, biting his neck._

_"Will you stay tonight?" Trowa whispered, arching into the older man. He bit his lip and let out a small moan. Zechs moved down his chest, licking, biting and sucking on him._

_"Maybe," he whispered playfully._

_"You're a bad liar," Trowa said._

_"Look who's being bold," Zechs joked._

_"Maybe I'll be bold later if you stay," Trowa said suggestively, raising an eyebrow._

_"What an offer… I guess I'll have to stay," he responded. Trowa smirked. "It's hard to believe how much a small boy like you takes out of me."_

_"A shock really, you know, since you're doing all the work," Trowa joked._

_"Even when you're in control. You're so talented Trowa, in so many ways…" Zechs said half serious, half seductive. _

_"I'm only as talented as the model I'm using," Trowa replied, instantly tensing. Zechs laughed._

_"You don't seem to have a talent for words however. I know what you meant to say, but you're still wrong. You have some emotion in your art. One day someone will be brought to tears Someone who will truly see what you're conveying." Trowa felt weird to hear him say such a thing._

Maybe that was his way of telling him he was leaving. Was he obsessed, did he scare Zechs away? He was pretty sure he was just in love, and that mixed with the passion he had for his paint had perhaps driven him over the edge. He looked down at Quatre and remembered how he had cried when he'd played piano. If Zechs had known him so well, cared for him, why had he left? He had almost gone mad… He put his hand on the scar beneath his shirt, clenching his jaw tightly. He quickly wiped his eyes and forced the images out of his head. He looked at Quatre and continued stroking his hair.

Quatre's eyes fluttered open, but he was not curled up in the corner any longer. His head was on Trowa's leg and Trowa's fingers were stroking his hair. He sat up, seeing Trowa was upset, but said nothing. He didn't think Trowa would tell him yet anyhow. "It's almost 4." No sooner had he said this, the elevator started to descend. It opened in the lobby. The two stepped off, Trowa, after grabbing his box of pencils. They went to the front desk.


	5. Confrontations and Complications

Ok so I got a new power cord for my computer, and it doesn't work. So that means there's something wrong with my computer battery! ARGH! Keeping me off the computer even longer. I can use my mom's but that's a battle I don't want to fight right now lol. Anyway, I promised another chapter, so here it is. It's kinda weird cuz it skips a lot of time, but I didn't feel like writing anything inbetween. Forgive me Here it is, anyway...

"We are very sorry for the inconvenience. We would like to offer you these," the girl said, handing them two tickets. "And this," she added, handing them something resembling a credit card.

"What is this?" they asked.

"They are tickets to a new play on Broadway and a 50 dollar universal gift card to be used for dinner before the show Saturday," she responded.

"Did you find out what the problem was with the elevator?" Quatre asked.

"Well, please don't tell anyone, but it appears that a small animal chewed on the wires in the basement and it shorted out. We're having an exterminator come in tomorrow and such," she answered quietly.

"Well, thank you very much for these, but we don't need them," Quatre said.

"Please take them. My boss was very insistent about me making sure you did. It's like he blames me for what happened or something. I don't want him to get mad," she begged. Trowa took the tickets and the card from Quatre.

"Thank you very much," Trowa said simply and motioned toward the stairs.

"It's such a waste. I could buy tickets. Those were probably supposed to be raffled off or something," Quatre began.

"We don't need them. But I'm sure Hilde could do with a night off huh? You said she doesn't see Duo much, so they can go together," Trowa said. Quatre's smile was so big it almost hurt him. "You're rubbing off on me, I don't know how I feel about that," Trowa joked.

"Are you still walking me to my door?" Quatre asked, hopeful.

"Of course. I'm a man of my word. Let's stop at my room first so I can put this stuff away." Trowa opened the door, placing the pencils down on the table inside the door with the sketch pad. He almost had a heart attack when the light turned on.

"Where have you been!" Wufei asked.

"I was stuck in the elevator!" Trowa replied, unable to comprehend what the boy was doing here.

"I called you like 30 times! I was worried about you!" Wufei yelled, throwing his arms up in the air. He suddenly looked around the taller boy. "You have company?"

"Yes. This is Quatre," Trowa said, gently pulling the boy into the apartment. Wufei stared at him for a long time. He got a horrible feeling. The purity oozing from this boy… He feared what might happen if he didn't keep an eye on things. Trowa didn't exactly go out and make friends, much less bring them back to the apartment, unless he meant them to be models.

"Hello Quatre," the Chinese boy finally said.

"You must be Wufei," Quatre said, offering his hand, which was taken reluctantly. He could feel the concern in the handshake.

"Quatre's going to be modeling for me," Trowa said softly. Wufei dropped Quatre's hand.

"Would you excuse us a moment," Wufei asked Quatre. Quatre nodded and went into the hall. "Do you know what you're doing? Why did you wait until I was out of here to start doing your art again?"

"It's just a coincidence, I swear it," Trowa assured him.

"When did you meet him?" Wufei asked.

"…Today," Trowa replied, looking at the floor.

"This is just like Zechs you know that? This is dangerous for you. I'll be damned if I find you in a few months in a puddle of blood," Wufei warned.

"I don't want to talk about that," Trowa said defiantly.

"Well you know what? You're going to have to. It's hardly fair to let him do this without telling him what happened. I can tell you're attracted to him. You can't honestly tell me that this is going to stay professional. He's a beautiful kid, and he's just what you're looking for. I knew you were hiding something from me, some sort of intention, but I wanted to trust that you would come to me," Wufei rambled, pacing back and forth in front of the piano.

"He's nothing like Zechs," Trowa retorted. He clenched his fists and his jaw.

"No? He's blonde to start. You're attracted to him second. You're bringing him to the apartment after knowing him for a day. He's probably never modeled before has he?" Wufei listed, pointing to his fingers.

"Maybe I want to move on. You think I don't look at my scar and warn myself about what could happen! What I know, is that Quatre respects me, and he has his reasons for doing this! I know he doesn't have bad intention," Trowa began.

"Neither did Zechs! He had the same hidden reason for taking the job, and he used you and then he destroyed you!" Wufei yelled.

Quatre wrapped his arms around himself. He shouldn't be listening, but they were talking so loud he could hear them from the hall three doors away… It wasn't fair that Trowa's secrets were being exposed to him this way…

"You don't own me Wufei! I love you, you're my best friend, but this is something I need! I need to stop being depressed all the time. I need to draw again. I want to paint and create things again. I won't let things get like they were!" Trowa yelled back at him. Wufei put a hand on his head.

"Stay here," Wufei said.

"What are you gonna do?" Trowa asked.

"Do you trust me?" Wufei asked, putting his arms on Trowa's shoulders. Trowa nodded slowly. "Then stay here." He walked out into the hall and down to where Quatre was standing. "We need to talk. I don't mean to accuse you, but there are things you need to know, and have to tell me if you want this to continue."

"I don't need to know anything," Quatre assured him. Wufei sighed. "I know you're his best friend, and you're looking out for him, but we sort of made a promise to keep our secrets until we were more comfortable with each other."

"Will you listen to me anyway?" Wufei asked.

"I heard," Quatre said.

"No, you have no idea," Wufei said.

"My father owns 'Of Despair.'" Quatre said. Wufei almost collapsed. His eyes widened.

"That was," he began, but could not finish. "It belongs to the," he started again.

"The Winner family. I am Quatre Raberba Winner. You can look it up if you feel the need," Quatre interrupted.

"Why are you doing this?" Wufei asked.

"Let me assure you, Wufei, that I have only good intentions. When I saw that painting in the hallway, I was overtaken with pain. I could see where the red had mixed with blood while no one was the wiser. I am empathic, and I am able to sense extreme emotion in things such as that. I had a panic attack because my heart was racing so fast. I decided then, that some day, I would have to find the artist and try and help him," Quatre began.

"I told him to burn that painting, people would see, and be disgusted," Wufei said.

"Luckily he didn't. I'll assume you know what lengths my father went through to get it," Quatre said.

"No, I never actually asked. We just picked up one huge check and had it put in the bank for him," Wufei said.

"5 million dollars," Quatre said. Wufei almost collapsed again.

"That's almost half of the check!" Wufei yelled in shock.

"My father is a big fan of art. He said something about it jumped at him. He actually bought it to give to me. He's always trying to bribe me to go to business school instead of music school. That reminds me, that's your piano in there isn't it?"

"Yeah, I searched long and hard for that piano. Trowa bought it for me, but it's actually like I made him get a present for himself. I was hoping he would pick up music and pour himself into that instead. I didn't want him falling apart again with his art. He nearly died…" Wufei said with chills.

"He wouldn't go to the hospital would he?" Quatre asked. Wufei shook his head. "You must've gone to great lengths to heal him. I know you're only looking out for what's best for Trowa. I've actually known Trowa for months now, without knowing who he was. I see him in the coffee shop all the time. I always wanted to talk to him but I chickened out. The girl that works there, they've become friends, and she played the middle man to work all this out. When she told me that Trowa was Trowa, I thought I would… explode or something ridiculous.

It didn't seem possible that the person I swore to help someday was this boy that I wanted to meet. He was always so angry or sad, so I never got the nerve up to start a conversation. When we got stuck on the elevator and I tried to talk with him, I could just sense that he was pressing for a good memory. I know his life has been nothing but pain, and every new person in his life or every person he's loved has been ripped away from him and nearly destroyed him. I want to help him put those pieces back together, more than ever now.

I have no intentions of getting involved with him right now, but know that I do have feelings for him. I just want to get to know him better and try to share these things I've told you, with him. I find most people bury things, the things that hurt them, so deep that it becomes them. Every person they try to trust enough to tell they turn away because they're afraid that the person will leave. I'm hoping I can prove that he can trust me and tell me all he's told you, and all the things he'd been afraid to. I want," Quatre began.

"Please," Wufei interrupted, putting a hand up. "You don't have to explain yourself any further. For the time being, I'll trust you. I just worry… He could lose it. He could break down for any reason. There were things in the beginning that triggered memories of Zechs and sent him into fits when we first got here. That's something you should know. You're like him in a lot of ways, but you're also very different. I only had the misfortune of meeting the guy twice, but I knew he was going to end up hurting Trowa. I don't sense that in you. Be prepared also, for him to push you away a lot, even when you get close…"

"I'm afraid I pushed the limit a bit today. He doesn't like to be touched," Quatre remarked. Wufei shook his head.

"He doesn't like to be touched affectionately. I tried to pet his hair once, when he was crying, and he locked himself in the bathroom for over an hour. Just, if you really want to help him, you're going to have to very patient. I'm daring to hope that you can help," Wufei clarified.

"Patience and time are really all I have," Quatre assured. Wufei gently grasped Quatre's shoulder. He went back into the apartment.

"Is he gone now?" Trowa asked. He looked angry and upset at the same time.

"No, he's still in the hall. He's not going anywhere. I'll leave it at, for now, that I trust him. If you start feeling like you felt before, I want you to call me," Wufei said. Trowa's mood lightened. "I'll even go so far as to say this might be good for you. Promise me you'll call me."

"I'll call you if I start getting… crazy again," Trowa said for lack of a better word. "You should get back before Sally gets worried about you."

"I'm going, but I think you should stop lying to Quatre about the piano," Wufei joked. Trowa looked at him with confusion. "You bought the piano, because you wanted to learn how to play. It doesn't belong to me."

"I bought it for you," Trowa argued.

"You bought it because I wanted to teach you, and we had no piano to practice on. Don't you think I would've taken it along with my other things?"

"You're an ass," Trowa replied with a laugh. Wufei smirked.

"You might want to invite Quatre in now." With that he left, making sure not to take the elevator. Trowa walked into the hall.

"Quatre," he said softly. Quatre came to the doorway.

"You don't have to walk me to my door. It's almost 5 now. We're both tired and it makes no sense for you to come up there to come back down again," Quatre began. His eyes suddenly widened as arms wrapped tightly around him. He hesitated before hugging Trowa back. When Trowa finally pulled back he was smiling and teary eyed.

"I don't know what you said to him to convince him, but thank you," Trowa whispered. Quatre was still in shock a little.

"I just told him the truth," Quatre remarked.

"Then I'm glad that you're here. You've instilled more hope in me."

"I'm glad."

"I think we should go to Long Island tomorrow. We could catch a train, and go to one of the lighthouses. We'll have to dress warm though, it's really cold on the beaches this time of year." Quatre laughed.

"We'll probably be asleep through the whole actual day. By the time we get up, eat, shower, and leave it'll be dark again," Quatre joked. Trowa looked a little hurt. "Not tomorrow. On Sunday, when it's not so busy on the trains," Quatre suggested. Trowa smirked.

"See, you're already getting that demanding attitude," he kidded. Quatre laughed with him. They went to the beach every Sunday for almost 4 months. Trowa knocked on Quatre's door one Sunday morning and he didn't answer the door. He'd given Trowa a copy of his key, as Trowa had given one to him for whatever reason. He opened the door and turned on the light. "Hello?"

There came no answer. It occurred to Trowa suddenly, that he'd only ever been in Quatre's living room. He felt lonely. He walked through the apartment looking for light switches that he didn't really care to turn on. He heard a soft hissing sound down the hall that just stopped. He pushed Quatre's door open. Steam billowed out of the bathroom connected to the bedroom. Trowa put his hand over his eyes and tripped backward out of the room as a very wet, naked Quatre reentered his room. Quatre yelped and covered himself, also falling backward.

"I'm so sorry! I had no right!" Trowa began still closing his eyes beneath his fingers. He could hear Quatre laughing nervously.

"It's just you," Quatre said, laughing harder. "I thought someone was just in my apartment." He came out once he'd put on boxers to comfort Trowa. He pulled his hand off his face and stared at him.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have just come in without saying anything. I should've called up here first. I should've said your name when I came in the room," Trowa rambled.

"You know you wanted to catch me in the shower. Was it everything you hoped for?" Quatre joked, resisting the urge to touch Trowa's face. And actually, in addition to trying to hide the embarrassment of seeing Quatre naked, he was trying to hide the fact that he was aroused. He turned a deep red. "I don't think I've ever seen you blush so badly." Quatre's teasing was not helping the situation.

"I was worried," Trowa began again, starting to rant. He opened his eyes to look at Quatre. That made it worse. He was clad only in boxers. He wasn't ready to have the relationship he was undoubtedly going to start if he stayed.

"Hey I said don't worry about it. It's really my fault. I woke up late and I didn't start getting ready til right now. I should've called _you_ to let you know. Then you could've come up and sat in the living room or something," Quatre assured him.

"I have to go!" Trowa announced suddenly, attempting to stand. Quatre fell backward and Trowa stumbled over him. He put his hand over his face again and helped Quatre up.

"I didn't mean to tease you Trowa. I'm sorry. Please don't go," Quatre pleaded, feeling guilty.

"It's not about that at all. I just… I have to go. I'll… I'll come back in an hour and we can catch a later train," Trowa assured him. He rushed out and back to his apartment. Quatre put his hands on his hips and then grinned to himself. Perhaps Trowa was trying to hiding something else… He giggled to himself as he got dressed and made breakfast, making a note to continue teasing Trowa later.

Trowa braced himself against his door and slid to the ground. He felt like saying something cliché aloud, like 'Phew that was close,' but decided it was too ridiculous. Sometimes he wondered how Quatre always seemed to sound amusing when he said something cliché while most people just sounded like idiots. He was one of those people. Quatre would tease him for months if he said something cliché. He would probably tease him mercilessly regarding the current situation… Speaking of which, he needed to take a very cold shower. Just the thought of seeing Quatre's body was… Cold shower… cold shower…

Quatre got off the elevator and went to Trowa's apartment. He'd been waiting an hour and 50 minutes for Trowa. He was worried now, but not very seriously. He figured Trowa had just been embarrassed and wanted some time alone. Upon entering he heard soft, breathy moans from Trowa's bedroom. He gasped and put a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. His was grinning as he slammed the door shut. He heard things falling over in Trowa's room, as he assumed, Trowa tried to compose himself.

"Trowa?" he called out for good measure. "I was getting worried. It's been nearly two hours! Are you alright?"

"Yeah! Uh, just gimme a second!" Trowa called back in distress. Quatre started with heavy footsteps toward his bedroom.

"Are you sure you're ok? Do you need help? What are you doing?" Quatre called. He had no intention of actually going in.

"No! I mean yes! I mean… I'm fine. I'm just getting cleaned up!" Trowa called back frantically. Trowa was trying miserably to make his arousal go away. The shower hadn't helped because he couldn't stop thinking about Quatre. He had been trying to get rid of it the old fashioned way until Quatre had come in. He tried to zip up his pants but his erection was painfully obvious.

"I was thinking, that might be a good idea for us! I could hold a towel over me and look shocked while you sketch me!" Quatre teased. Trowa groaned thinking about how he'd try to hide an erection over the course of a few hours as drew Quatre…

"I uh… I don't think I could handle that right now," Trowa replied, his voice almost breaking.

"Not now of course, maybe when we get back," Quatre teased.

"About that… I don't think we should go to Long Island today. So much has happened to throw off our schedule," Trowa said in an attempt to change the subject and stall for time.

"That's fine with me. Why don't you come out here and talk with me. Aren't you done cleaning up? It's not like you to be messy," Quatre called. Trowa gripped his forehead and paced a little. What could he do? Trowa didn't say anything. "So about that idea… I thought I would be a little demanding. I don't mind showing a little skin," Quatre said. Trowa fell to the floor.

_"I don't mind showing a little skin," Zechs joked. "I was in a thong when you met me. There isn't much you haven't seen."_

_"Yeah I guess that's right," Trowa replied. He had felt odd asking the blonde to his shirt off._

_"Any time you want me to strip, I'd be happy to," Zechs said, winking at Trowa. Trowa blushed. Halfway through finishing the pastels he was interrupted._

_"You know, you're really cute when you blush," Zechs began. Trowa blushed again. Zechs stood up and moved toward him. _

Trowa stood up and backed Quatre against the wall.

"_And you're very hot when you're concentrating so hard. I hope you'll forgive me, if I offend you," he added, knocking the things out of Trowa's lap. Trowa's mouth hung open as he stood up. He was backed against the wall. Zechs grabbed his wrists and pinned them over his head with one hand, touching his jaw with the other._

Trowa grabbed Quatre's wrists and pinned them against the wall. "Trowa! What are you doing? I didn't mean to tease you so much. Trowa!"

"_And you are unbelievable sexy like this," Zechs said pressing their lips together. Trowa shivered in pleasure. Zechs unbuttoned his shirt with one hand while kissing him._

"Trowa!" Trowa maneuvered so that he captured both wrists with one hand and pressed his lips to Quatre. He then forcefully spun him around and shoved him on the bed.

"_And I want you," Zechs whispered lustfully, turning him toward the bed, pushing him onto it. He was afraid for sure, but he'd wanted it, for a long time... "Don't be afraid Trowa. I'll be gentle," he promised him, kissing down his chest._

"Trowa! Snap out of it!" Quatre was sitting on the end of the bed, his legs forced apart. Trowa kneeled between them, staring into his eyes, but not really seeing Quatre in front of him. He put his hands on Quatre's cheeks and slowly came back. He blinked furiously until tears moistened his dry eyes. He wrapped his arms around Quatre and pulled him close, sobbing into his shoulder. Quatre but his arms around Trowa's neck, pulling him closer. "It's ok now…"

"I could've done something horrible to you Quatre," he whispered.

"You didn't. I set you off somehow. I shouldn't have been teasing you like that," Quatre declared.

"Did I…say anything?" he asked fearfully.

"No, you just had this blank look on your face," Quatre told him.

"Did I touch you? Did I hurt you?" Trowa asked.

"No, I'm not hurt. You kissed me…" Quatre answered honestly. Trowa tensed. "I'm sorry, do you need space?"

"No, it's not that," Trowa said, pushing back to look at Quatre's face. "That's not how I wanted to do it… I ruined it…"

"You didn't really do anything. You were totally possessed. I promise, next time you kiss me I'll count it as our first," Quatre joked. Trowa's hand tangled in Quatre's hair and pulled his face close enough to feel Quatre's breath mix with his.

"I wanted you to be intoxicated," Trowa whispered. Quatre's lip quivered and his eyes felt heavy. Trowa's eyes were already closed. He didn't want to make any moves. He wanted in all to be Trowa's decision. Maybe he wasn't ready for this really...

"I don't want you to feel obligated to rectify the situation now," Quatre whispered.

"Can I ask a selfish favor?"

"Alright."

"If I wanted to do it anyway, could you forget about it?" Trowa asked. It would be a very selfish thing to ask most people, but for them, it was right. Quatre wanted Trowa to kiss him as badly as Trowa wanted to kiss him. They both knew, now was not the time to start something like this but they wanted so much to hold on to this kiss… This one gentle memory to hold on to until they were ready, a reminder of things they would eventually share…

"If you promise that one day you'll kiss me again," Quatre returned selfishly. Trowa smiled and laughed along with Quatre.

"It's a deal," Trowa whispered. Quatre cupped Trowa's cheek and eased the distance closed. Their lips touched softly, timidly parting to deepen the kiss. Their tongues massaged each other for a few sweet moments and the parted breathless. They were still very close to each other when they opened their eyes.

"That was amazing," Quatre commented. Trowa's eyes closed again as he smiled. Quatre's hand fell away from Trowa's face.

"I wish it had never ended," Trowa added.

"What will we do now?"

"We should take a nap," Trowa suggested, moving to collapse on his stomach atop the bed. Quatre fell back and stared at Trowa.

"We just slept all night, and you want to nap?" he joked. Trowa smiled.

"I feel drowsy," he jested back. Quatre laughed.

"Let's go to the coffee shop. We can hang out with Hilde."

"Five more minutes!" Trowa whined. He smiled to himself as he pulled off a cliché line and managed to avoid scrutiny.

"Well alright, but only five," Quatre said. Trowa smiled wider.

"Thank you mommy."

"Don't go there," Quatre demanded with a laugh.

"Is something wrong?" Trowa asked. Quatre hesitated. "You don't have to tell me…"

"It's just… my mother, I never knew her."

"Did she leave?"

"She died, giving birth to me…" Trowa swallowed hard. He moved closer to Quatre and put an arm around him, pulling him closer. He could tell the blonde was trying not to cry. "We're batting a thousand today huh?" Quatre wiped his eyes and let out a laugh.

"That's the second time you've done that today," he joked.

"Done what?"

"Coined a phrase," Quatre replied, with a smile.

"I didn't think you'd noticed. I thought they fit the situation. Actually I was afraid if I ever said something cliché I would be ragged on by you for months," Trowa admitted. They both laughed.

"I probably would have if you said something ridiculously cliché."

"You do it all the time, but it just always works."

"That's because I'm a very talented linguist," Quatre gloated. Trowa shoved him and they laughed again. Trowa got quiet, as he figured he might as well bring up another touchy subject.


	6. A Falling Out

Alright, sorry it took so long to get this up. I've been working and sleeping and trying to write, but I still haven't gotten my computer fixed so it's hard to get on the computer to type. My mom is all RAH RAH RAH IT'S MY COMPUTER! And I'm like ...shut up... lol not really, I just nod and leave. So anyway, uhm... here is the next chapter, I hope you like it The next one should be up in 2 or 3 days when I get to typing it up.

"If I draw you like you asked, are you going to try to seduce me?" Trowa asked, turning a little red.

"Of course not! When it comes to art, this is completely professional. I only tease you when we're hanging out."

"What I just did… it was when he first made a move on me. I'd only asked him to take off his shirt, and then, well I was in your position. I had wanted to touch him, wanted him to touch me. I wanted him to be attracted to me. He was sexy down to his toes, and his voice, that was what got me most. That soft, always seductive tone he had…" Trowa began. Quatre listened, and he was thankful it didn't make him uncomfortable.

"Well I'm not the seducing type I don't think. I'm a bit reserved when it comes to… sexual things," Quatre replied.

"Are you still…" Trowa began but bit his lip to stop himself. It wasn't any of his business. They were not together, he reminded himself.

"Well I'm a virgin in the sense that I haven't taken or given sex. But there was one time, a boy, a friend of the family," Quatre began, turning red as he tried to explain it delicately. "He went down on me."

"Was it a one time thing?" Trowa asked.

"It happened a few times. He always waited until I was going back to my room and followed me into the hall. We kissed a few times before, but it never went farther than, well you know," Quatre said.

"Did he hurt you?" Trowa asked.

"I was a little upset when I didn't hear from him, but I just sort of accepted that all we could have was this secret. I was lonely, and I wanted someone to care about me, even just those few fleeting moments…"

"I understand. I met him on the beach. He was tanning in a thong. He had a great body, long blonde hair, crystal blue eyes… It was like a dream come true. He was just what I was looking for, and when he agreed so readily I felt like I might just, explode or something."

"I'll probably see him around Christmas. We don't actually celebrate, we're Arabian, but my father will have a party and I know he'll be there. You'll come won't you?" Quatre asked.

"Perhaps, that's still a few months away. What do you do for Thanksgiving?"

"Oh, well since we're here, we celebrate it like everyone else. It's an excuse to get the whole family together. All the girls bring their boyfriends home to meet our father," Quatre explained. He kept thinking about how he was going to tell his father why he didn't have anyone to bring home again…

"Are you going to tell him before that?" Trowa asked.

"Tell him what?"

"That you're not taking over for him and that you like boys," Trowa said. Quatre rested his head in his hands.

"It might be a bit much to handle all at once. I might be able to get away with just telling him I'm gay and just have him cut me off from his life," Quatre replied, trying to joke. It came off very sad however.

"Well I'll be here for you."

"Maybe I should call now, while I have the nerve," Quatre said. He pulled out his cell phone. Trowa held his hand.

"You're sure about this?" Trowa asked. "Can you support yourself if he writes you off?"

"I could probably manage for a while. At least until I get a job. I could work and still go to school," Quatre assured, himself, more than Trowa. He punched the number into the phone and waited patiently for an answer. His heart was racing and his body was tingling. "Hello, this is Quatre; I need to speak with my father." He waited a few moments before his father's cheerful voice came on the line.

"Quatre! You caught me on my way to lunch! What are you up to? How have you been?"

"I have something important to tell you. You should go sit down, alone."

"I am alone. I'm in my office. Is something wrong?"

"Don't you think it's weird that I've never brought home a girlfriend?"

"I had some suspicions…"

"Well, it's because I'm…" Quatre paused. He wasn't sure he could say it. His father began laughing on the other end.

"I think I've been waiting for this call for a long time. I guess this is what I get letting your sisters raise you."

"You're not… mad? You know this means I won't be taking the business from you…"

"No. Well I was for a while, but I've come to terms with it. I thought if you were to come to me, I wouldn't be surprised. You're far too kind and innocent for my world Quatre. I've known it since you were a little boy, but it's my pride that makes me want to believe you'll be… normal I suppose is the word. I know I pushed you to be cultural, appreciate fine arts and the like. I knew when you went to music school that you were never going to be what I had pictured."

"I'm… I'm a little shocked…"

"Well how about it Quatre, why are you calling me now about this? Were you caught with a boy by some reporter? Or are you in love?"

"I think it's the latter. We were talking about Thanksgiving, and I was wondering what would happen…"

"Well you should bring him to dinner. I can't vouch for all your sisters, but most of them should be alright with you bringing a boyfriend. Try not to let it get in the papers if you can help it. In the mean time, you won't be offended if I discuss the matter of the company with your sisters?" his father said.

"Of course not. They deserve the company; they've worked so hard," Quatre replied. He covered the phone and looked at Trowa. "Will you come to dinner for Thanksgiving? He would like to meet you…" It felt wrong to ask, because they were not together, but he thought it was probable that in the next 6 months they would end up being together, or he hoped.

"I guess so… I mean, if you want me to," Trowa answered. Quatre half smiled. It was a bitter agreement for him. He knew he was pushing Trowa into a corner…

"Alright then Quatre. I'm gonna go have some breakfast, unless there's something else?"

"No, that was all. Thank you father," he whispered with tears in his eyes.

"Don't be afraid to call me Quatre. I'm your father and I love you."

"I love you too father, and I will. I'll call more, I promise." They said their goodbyes and hung up. Quatre was stunned.

"Took it better than you thought?" Trowa asked, teasing the blonde.

"He knew…but I'm glad, it made it easier… Now I just have my sisters to worry about," Quatre joked.

"How many sisters do you have anyway?"

"…29…" Quatre replied. Trowa's mouth gaped open.

"How is that even possible?" he whispered in shock himself.

"Well it's… It's alright in our culture to take more than one wife… Some of the girls were twins, and there was one set of triplets. He had three wives before my mother. He met her here, after all my other sisters were born. He married her here and she got pregnant with me. He was so excited when they found out I was a boy. He found out later on though, that she'd been to the doctor and they'd advised her to abort, or she would die. She refused. My father only found out when she went into labor and he asked her why she'd do such a thing. She told him, 'If there were ever a worthy cause to die for, it would be to bring our son into this world. I would not be living at all if I had ended his life. Let him know that I love him more than he shall ever know.'"

"Quatre," Trowa whispered. He brought his hand up to wipe the tears from Quatre's eyes. "Please don't cry," he begged. He wanted to hold Quatre, but something was keeping him. He was frozen. He was brought back to his memory of leaving his mother. He'd screamed at her, that he hated her for ruining his life and she had stared coldly at him. He felt jealous that Quatre's mother was willing to die for him to be brought into the world and his own mother all but resented his existence…

"I think we should do water colors today. I'll sit by the window and look outside and you can mess around," Quatre suggested, standing up and walking to the kitchen. There was a large glass window with a sitting area within it that he went to. He sat down, staring outside. It had started to rain and he looked up at the grey sky, crying freely, but quietly to himself. He heard Trowa shuffling around, looking for paper and paint. He used small brushes and retrieved a few small cups of water and paper towels. He had started using water colors last week at the light house.

Quatre was barely aware that he was sitting at the table. He was wrapped up in painful memories, of which he had stirred up twice today. He couldn't bring himself to comfort Quatre, so he could only do what he was asked. He made the first painting very watery, as though a reflection in the water of the scene before him. He painted a very accurate picture next; making sure it was very detailed. The next was with hardly any water, the colors were done very solid, with hardly any detail at all. The next was done in a smoky manner, once the basic picture was done, he used the water to blend the colors together so it looked as though they were merely colors rising in the air. He liked the first one the best. He set them on the table to let them dry and cleaned up.

"Trowa?" Quatre whispered. Trowa walked into the room.

"Yes Quatre?"

"When I found out… I felt like I had no right to live," Quatre began.

"You must be joking," Trowa returned. Quatre stared at him, puzzled. "I would have given anything to be loved like that. Every time I dared to love, my mother, my father, my sister, Wufei, Zechs… I was slapped with the reality of each situation. My mother despised my existence, and my father didn't love me enough to even attempt to fight for me. My sister still has not contacted me since I gave Hilde my information. Wufei left to move in with a girl he'd only known 6 months, when he knew that I was still not alright. And Zechs, he seduced me, made me love him, and then he was just gone. His number was disconnected and he dropped off the face of the Earth." He didn't mean to be so cruel but it hurt Quatre anyway.

Quatre knew he should be understanding… but he was far too upset right now. He didn't want to ruin all they had built up so far by saying something regretful. He closed his eyes, biting his lip to keep from crying anymore. He could not be around Trowa right now, and rushed out of the apartment. He didn't expect Trowa to follow him so he made no rush up the stairs. When he reached floor 20 he sat on the stairs and cried again.

He felt selfish suddenly. He at least knew his mother loved him so much she was willing to die for him. That didn't mean that he couldn't be upset about it every once and a while. He had never even met her and everyone told him how wonderful she was, like him. He had grown up to be just like her, though they had never met, and he thanked Allah for that. He could feel her strength pulsing through him, but he still felt guilty that he had robbed her of the rest of her life. He would just have to follow his heart and hope that she was proud of him…

Trowa put his head in his hands as he sat on his bed. He berated himself for driving the blonde away. Who wouldn't be upset that they had never met their mother? Or for the fact that she willingly gave her life for his? She must've been a very kind and loving woman. It must hurt Quatre that he never knew her… Maybe he wasn't finished explaining his feelings, and he had interrupted and hurt him further… Why was he making it so hard for Quatre? He was falling for Quatre for sure, and he knew Quatre had some feelings for him. He just wanted to help and he drove him away every time he reached out a little too much.

He couldn't let Quatre be upset. He wasn't sure what he would do, but he needed to make sure he'd be ok. He left the apartment and started walking up the stairs. As he reached 17 he heard soft sobbing. He couldn't move again, he froze. He could barely deal with his own problems, so he wasn't sure if he could even help. He just knew he felt horrible. He took the next 2 flights very slowly. He could see Quatre leaning against the railing, crying, and it tore at his heart.

"I wish I could've met you before Quatre," Trowa said, as he joined the blonde. He sat next to him. "I would have never made you cry. I, I don't really know why I keep pushing you away. I have some fear of getting close to anyone, but I know I shouldn't be scared of you. Everything in my being tells me that you will never do what Zechs did to me. I just, I don't want to rush into anything… I tense when I'm touched because I keep feeling Zechs' hands on me. When I'm with you I don't feel it too much, I'm able to hug you and touch you, but the moment you reciprocate, when you're not in shock, I can feel him…"

"It's still too soon to hope for that to just go away. I mean it's been a long time since him, but I'm the first person you're trying to get close with. There will naturally be some boundaries and fears to overcome, but I'm not going anywhere. I just get very emotional over my mother. I wonder if I'm making her proud. My sisters and other family always tell me I'm very much like her and it makes me feel close to her. Sometimes I wish that she was able to finish living her life, and I feel responsible for her life ending so suddenly. When I finish being upset about it, I usually thank her for her sacrifice and promise to live my life as best I can for her. I didn't mean to start out telling you about her on a bad note, it was my mistake."

"No, I overreacted. I thought that you might not have been finished, because you're not one to get depressed or cry, and I just made you feel bad instead of trying to help," Trowa interrupted.

"Well if you think about it, it was sort of a good thing. You were able to talk to me about something you probably haven't told anyone. I'm thankful for every memory you share with me, because it means you're helping to let go of your pain. It means that I'm being a good influence," Quatre enlightened.

"Yes, but I don't want it to be at the risk of you getting hurt. I don't want to let one thing out and create another bad situation by upsetting you," Trowa said. He put his arms around the blonde and hugged him. "I don't want to create any more pain…"

"Trowa, it's not as though you're doing it intentionally," Quatre said, hugging Trowa back. They both knew neither would convince the other of anything, so they just stayed silent for a while sitting beside each other. "Did the paintings come out good?"

"They came out decent. I haven't used watercolors in a while, I'm still getting back in the mood," Trowa responded.

"Do you think we're spending too much time together?" Quatre meekly asked. Trowa stared at him, not sure if and how he should answer.

"I… I don't know, maybe…" he responded.

"I think that maybe we should spend some time apart. It might lessen the tension that's growing between us. I don't want us to start fighting or shutting each other out because we're getting irritated," Quatre explained. Trowa nodded slowly in agreement, though he did not agree at all. Having Quatre around all the time was helping him forget, helping him let go, but he didn't want to suffocate the blonde. It was probably the best idea to listen to him…

"You're right… Let's take a week or two off," Trowa responded. He saw Quatre tense, and he knew it was hurting them both. He just couldn't understand why building up this relationship was so hard on them. Quatre forced a smile. "Just call when you're ready to start again…" Quatre nodded. Trowa stood up and walked back to his room. Helaid with his arms crossed across his chest on his bed. He stared at the closet.

Quatre leaned heavily against the door. He knew what he'd done was probably going to make things worse. Trowa was going to withdraw and stay locked in his room. There was just too much tension building up… He was painfully keeping himself from touching the taller boy. He was losing his restraint and that would surely ruin everything they had. He had almost lost it when Trowa hugged him on the stairs… He didn't know what else to do, or how else to say it. He sighed and slumped to the floor.


	7. Almost to The Edge

I'm SO sorry it took so long to get this up! I promise tomorrow or Friday to put up the next one. It's just like, everytime I tried to upload for like the last 2 weeks it kept giving me an error message. I was so pissed off. But now here is chapter 7 and 8 will be here soon!I promise!

The next afternoon Trowa entered the coffee shop and saw Hilde sitting by the window. She was probably on break, so he figured he'd sit with her. "Hey Hilde."

"Hey Trowa, Quatre," she replied without looking. Trowa bit his lip. When she didn't hear Quatre's response she turned around. "Where's Quatre? You guys always come in together."

"I think he's teaching a lesson," Trowa fibbed. Hilde knew he was lying, but knew it was not her place to ask.

"I want to apologize to you Trowa."

"For what?"

"Catherine never responded to my email. When I called the people on the other end said she had moved out. I guess it was her… your stepmother. She must've just changed her email when she left. You must have been feeling so… well not so great," Hilde explained.

"Actually, that makes me feel a little better. At least that means she doesn't know. I was under the impression she didn't want to speak to me any more," Trowa said.

"I know if she knew you were here, she'd be here as soon as she could. She talked about you a lot."

"How did you meet her?"

"I went to school in L.A. for about a year before I decided to go here. She was teaching a self defense class. We got to talking and hanging out after class. She had a picture of you two in her room. She told me you were a great artist. She found your mom finally and asked where you were going to school and she said a lot of horrible things about you. But I know Catherine really cares about you. We stopped talking as much when I came to New York, but she knows where I'm staying. So hopefully, she'll come visit me, and you two can have a reunion."

"At least I'll have that back on the list of good things," Trowa muttered.

"What's going on Trowa? You seem so sad."

"Just feeling a little lonely."

"I know what that feels like. Everything is just so hectic. I don't really have time to go out or even see my brother. I have to keep my grades up or I lose my scholarship and I won't be able to go to school. It's a lot of work… You should be glad you have natural talent, I've got to work at everything to look good."

"Sometimes talent is a curse," Trowa said softly. Hilde put a hand on his shoulder and sighed.

"How about I get us some hot chocolate to drown away our misery, huh? On me," Hilde suggested. Trowa nodded. Next time he would have to buy her a drink, a real one. She was someone he knew he could confide in if needed, and he was thankful she was there. Hilde was really one of his only friends, and they barely knew each other. It made him feel even worse.

"Thank you," he whispered, sipping the hot drink. He spent the next two weeks coming to visit her, making small talk. It wasn't until the next Saturday morning rolled around that she brought up Quatre. He was upset that Quatre still had not called him. He thought he might have done or said something wrong, but all he could do was wait. He didn't want to drive Quatre any farther away.

"You know, Quatre hasn't been here all week. Did you two have a fight or something?" Hilde asked. Two blonde girls were seated at a table by the counter since he'd come in. Trowa sat in a chair next to the counter, glancing over at them occasionally. One of the girls looked curiously at them. The other stared at Trowa.

"I don't know what happened. We were irritating each other or something," Trowa said quietly so the girls could not hear. The first blonde stood and walked to the counter.

"I couldn't help but hear you mention Quatre. Quatre Winner?" she asked.

"Well, who are you?" Hilde asked defensively.

"I'm Dorothy Catalonia, me and my friend Relena and friends of his family. We were told he was staying in New York, but we haven't been able to catch him," she replied.

"Why are you looking for him?" Trowa asked.

"Haven't you seen the paper?" Dorothy asked, putting it on the counter. 'Winner Enterprise names 4 heirs.' "He's not one of those four. We were just wondering what happened. If him and his father got in a fight about…"

"About what?" Hilde asked. Relena got up and joined them.

"Well the last party we attended at the Winner house, my brother made some advances on him. We thought that maybe his father found out he likes boys," Relena whispered.

"Well he hasn't been in all week. If you hang around here, you're bound to run into him," Hilde replied.

"You look very familiar to me. I can't remember from where, but…" Relena said as she continued to stare at Trowa.

"I don't believe I know anyone rich aside from Quatre. And apparently he's not going to be that rich from here on out," Trowa replied snidely.

"Aren't you an artist?" Dorothy asked. Trowa was losing his patience. It seemed like this was all rehearsed. Something about Relena did seem very familiar though…

"Yeah, that's it! Your picture was in the paper a few years ago. Mr. Winner bought one of your pieces for 5 million dollars," Relena said. Trowa swallowed hard. He put a hand on his chest as he remembered the bloody mess of 'Of Despair.' "What was your name again?"

"Trowa Barton," he replied. He was feeling dizzy. He was feeling hot. He needed to get out of here and go to the apartment. He started to feel angry and betrayed, and he needed to paint. "I've got to go Hilde," he said, standing and pushing past the two girls. The world was spinning outside. He felt like he was losing it. He could even swear he saw _him_ across the street. He started running back to the apartment. If he had been paying more attention he'd have noticed that Dorothy following him.

He screamed once inside his room. He pulled open the closet and pulled out the three canvases there. He set up the easel and the paints and could not stop. He painted one of Quatre in all red and pink hues, bleeding, dying. Paint was falling and staining the floor, his clothes, but he could feel nothing. He cringed as he felt his skin being caressed by Zechs.

"_I wish I could take you home with me," he whispered._

"_I want you to be mine," he whispered._

"_I want to drive you crazy," he whispered._

He painted Quatre's smooth back, arms bound behind them. He was kneeling, looking back at him with shame. He painted the wooden floor beneath him and the sun fading in the background.

"_Would you like it if I tied you up?" he asked, already holding Trowa's hands behind his back. "I know it would turn me on…"_

"_Please don't tease me anymore," Trowa begged._

"_You're intoxicating you know. I think I'd rather feel your nails on my back," Zechs whispered, flipping him over. He pressed into Trowa, making him whimper. He pulled his nails up Zechs' back, arching up. He did whatever he wanted, and all he asked in return was to capture him eternally in the pencils, pastels, clay, paint. If he were bolder, he would ask him to spend the lonely nights with him…_

Trowa finished the third, breathing heavy. He pulled off his dirty shirt and dropped the paintbrush and the paints to the ground. He shook and backed away. He had not painted Quatre at all… He was on the canvases, hair hiding his face which was pointed down. His cut was open and bleeding. The knife was on the floor beside him and his hand was shown, reaching with blood to touch something that was not before him anymore. He was captured finally on the canvas as he had been caught by Wufei all those years ago. He made it to the bathroom and turned the hot water on. He sunk to the ground as the water burned him, scalded his skin as he tried to wash away the paint that seemed like blood to him.

Had he cut himself again? He shook violently again as he started to cry. He touched his scar but the paint or blood from his hands just smeared the substance on his chest. He needed to get to the phone and call Wufei, or Quatre. Quatre was only a few floors away. Or was he? Maybe he wanted time off so he could be with someone else. Relena's brother that was the guy he'd fooled around with and it would make sense for them to be seeing each other. It wasn't like he had made any moves on Quatre, and he was a beautiful boy.

He thought things were starting to make sense. Quatre had obviously known who he was, his father had his painting. He wasn't sure as to Quatre's true motives anymore. Everything was blurring together in a bad way. He didn't want to believe Quatre was against him. He would have to go find out, now, before he either bled to death or had a panic attack.

He still had on his pants though they were soaked. He grabbed Quatre's key and shakily made it to the elevator. When it got to 21 and the doors opened people gasped at him. They asked if he was ok but he was deaf to their voices. He made it down to 2121 and banged on the door. He felt weak suddenly, like his legs were about to give out. A blonde opened the door, but it was not Quatre, it was Dorothy.

"Oh my god! Are you alright?" she yelled. She moved back quickly and Trowa fell into the room. He erased her from his existence. Quatre ran over to him, leaning him up off the ground.

"Are you bleeding Trowa! What did you do!" Quatre cried out frantically.

"I don't know! That's not the point! You knew me! Didn't you?" Trowa yelled, resting in the blonde's arms.

"Dorothy get some towels and warm water. Find something in the medicine cabinet!" he cried. His vision blurred as tears fell. He held his heart and started breathing erratically. His heart hurt, as though it were trying to rip its way out of his chest. "What happened Trowa? Why didn't you call me!"

"You're not answering me!" Trowa yelled. His eyes fluttered for a few minutes until tears made them moist.

"Trowa, please, tell me what happened. I'll tell you anything you want to know later!" Quatre pleaded. He wiped at Trowa's chest unable to tell where the wound was. "I'm so sorry Trowa!"

"I don't know! I just, I was painting! And I… I don't know what happened. I tried to wash it off but it just won't come off!" Trowa said varying between near whispers and shouting. Dorothy helped Quatre try to clean him up.

"He's not bleeding Quatre. It's just paint," Dorothy whispered putting a worried hand over her face.

"I think you should go. We can talk tomorrow. You've got my number just call. Tell Relena and Milliardo I'm sorry I wasn't able to see them," Quatre replied. Trowa's eyes finally closed and he calmed down.

"It's a shame really; they're only in town today. I'm… sorry for your friend…" she said, going to grab her pocketbook. "I'll give you a call tomorrow then."

"Goodbye Dorothy," Quatre said softly as she closed the door behind her. He picked Trowa up and walked to the bathroom. He detached the showerhead and turned the water on warm. He soaped up Trowa's body and washed away all the traces of the paint from his chest and arms. He ran his fingertips along the length of the scar. His hand was shaking when it lifted from his skin so he balled it into a fist. He could see the image of the knife and the blood and all the suffering inside of Trowa that had caused this… "I guess it's only fair to tell you now…"

"No, I… I didn't mean to accuse you. I… I went crazy again… I thought I saw Zechs, and then that girl was with Relena in the coffee shop. They said they knew me; your father bought my painting. I just didn't know what to think," Trowa mumbled.

"Fuck," Quatre cursed. He never really liked Dorothy. She was always scheming. He should've known she had something to do with this. "You have a right to know, and it's been 5 months since we started this relationship. It's about time I think, for you to understand my reasons…"

"Are you sure?" Trowa asked with a sad expression. He was so weak and drained. He was so vulnerable. Quatre was ashamed of himself. He was every bit responsible as Dorothy and whoever else was involved in this.

"My father bought your painting, 'Of Despair,' while in California on business. He had actually bought it under the impression that I would appreciate the powerful emotion in it. He hung it in the hall my bedroom was in. As I passed it I felt a severe pain come over me, I needed to go to the hospital because my heart wouldn't stop racing and I almost passed out. I could see nothing but blood.

When I got home I would spend a few minutes staring at it when I passed it in the hall. My father told me you were an up and coming artist and he expected to see many more masterpieces like that one from you. He was disappointed to learn you were not painting any longer. I knew that at some point in my life I wanted to help _Trowa_, to know what had driven him to paint with blood.

Then I started going to school in New York. I made friends with a girl named Hilde and I watched a quiet, sad boy who frequented the same shop. I wondered what made him so sad, and why he seemed so familiar to me. I actually grew attracted to the boy in the shop. Hilde told me that boy's name was Trowa, but that didn't really mean anything. It wasn't until later that night, when she called and told me you were Trowa Barton, and that you wanted me to model for you that I confirmed it. You turned out to be the person I wanted to help since I was 18. That is why I so readily accepted working with you.

And there's something else I need to tell you, even if it ruins everything," Quatre explained.

"Tell me," Trowa whispered after a few minutes of contemplating.

"I'm falling in love with you Trowa. I wanted to take a break so that I didn't do something I would regret. It was getting hard not to touch you and I didn't want to drive you away," Quatre confessed.

"That's why you haven't called?" Trowa asked. Quatre nodded.

"Every time I picked up the phone I couldn't dial. I didn't think I was being fair to you," Quatre began. Trowa sat up and pulled Quatre's face close to his.

"I need you Quatre. I don't know why, but when you're not with me, I don't feel anything," Trowa said. He pressed his lips gently to Quatre's. "I need your warmth and your love to help me. I need your touch even if my body refuses it my mind is begging you."

"If that's what you want," Quatre whispered, pressing his lips to Trowa again. "I'll go get you some dry clothes and you can sleep here tonight. I don't think I want you to be alone."

"I don't remember if I even closed the door…" Trowa said absently.

"I'll be right back." Quatre went down to Trowa's apartment, which was closed but not locked. He saw the traces of red all over the apartment. When he got in the bedroom he saw the paint all over the floor, and the three paintings. He looked at the two on the floor, one of Trowa in red and pink, he could feel pain from this one. Then the one of Trowa with his back turned, with rope on his hands. He could feel the desire exuding from that one. When he saw the one still on the easel he felt like he might need to go to the hospital. The gash was opened on Trowa's chest, and he was reaching out to paint with the blood. His heart started racing and he fell backward onto the bed. He couldn't take his eyes off it.

"I should've warned you," Trowa said stepping into his vision. He put his hand on Quatre's heart. "I should clean all this up so it doesn't stain too bad…"

"Your paintings, they're so powerful. There's so much depth and detail in them, so much feeling," Quatre murmured.

"When I was doing 'Of Despair' I can't even remember getting the knife. I remember being very calm and I remember putting the knife to my collar bone, but then I just remember the pain. I put my hand to my chest and started using it. I felt dizzy and then Wufei came in. He did what he could to stop to bleeding and bandaged me up. I refused to go to the hospital and get put in some asylum," Trowa explained. "Today when I was painting, I thought I was painting you. When I finished the last one I suddenly saw what I had really done. I thought maybe I had gotten a knife or a razor and cut myself again because I had so much red paint on me. It brought me back to that moment I painted, to seeing my hands full of blood…"

"They say the most brilliant people are the most eccentric. I think it's only paint that takes you over the edge. It brings you to an extreme emotion, and helps you put it on a canvas. It's usually when you're heading toward the peak of emotion that you start to paint isn't it?" Quatre proposed. Trowa thought about it for a few minutes. "It's why you don't start painting anything. You start with pencils and pastels, then water colors, then probably an assortment of materials, before you even touch paint. You're building up the emotion toward your subject until you're passionate enough about it."

"I… I never thought about that. I guess in my mind I thought I was trying to perfect my subjects before I painted them. I feel that when I paint on the canvas it's very permanent. It's not something that can be fixed or redone or erased. It is whatever it comes out to be and I want to make sure I can make it perfect," Trowa explained looking at the canvas. But as he thought about it, Quatre's logic also made sense. "Do you think Zechs left me because my painting was driving me crazy?"

"I don't think that at all. I couldn't give you an alternative reason though. I would assume that most of the emotion going into your paintings of Zechs was passion. And from what you've told me, he seemed pretty eager to have sex, so I can't see where that would've been a problem," Quatre answered. Trowa blushed.

"I wish I knew," Trowa said despondently.

"Do you still love him?" Quatre asked. Trowa turned to face him slowly.

"I don't think you could call it love. There's a part of me that will never let him go, he stole something from me. It's like something I'm taking from you when I draw you, it's undefined, you can't take it physically. It's a mind game I suppose. You lure the innocent spirit and soul out of a person on to paper. Zechs found a way to take it back and use it against me…" Trowa tried to explain.

"So I'm no longer a mental virgin?" Quatre joked. Trowa cracked a smile.

"I haven't painted you yet, so you're still safe. It doesn't really matter much, unless you plan on modeling for someone else," Trowa said. "But somehow, I don't think I could steal that glow you give off," he said caressing Quatre's face. "Let's get this place cleaned up and I'll change and we can go let Hilde know I'm alright. They scrubbed the paint off the floors, and luckily it didn't stain badly. Quatre was sure they could hire someone to refinish the floors and get the color out.

"Good thing you don't have much carpet," Quatre kidded. Trowa stared at the paintings.

"I don't know what to do with them… I don't think I'll sell the last one; it's a little too personal. Do you know where we could take the other ones?" Trowa asked.

"Actually, Dorothy came to invite me to an art show. She said they're collecting pieces from people living in the city. It's a shot at fame and fortune for most of the snobs who think they can paint. They're likely to be judged and then sold to the highest bidder. Would you be comfortable doing that?"

"Only if you'll let me paint you."

"Just one for now," Quatre said. Trowa nodded. "I assume we'll have to buy more canvas?"

"Yeah, I used the last of them."

"We'll go after we see Hilde."


	8. An Unknowingly Familiar Face

Ok first I want to start by, apologizing once again for the delay in this chapter, and that it's so short, and that it's a major cliff hanger hides I'm not sure if I ever thanked you guys for reviewing! Thank you so much! It makes me so happy when I see reviews. I've been working 12 hour days at work to show that I'm capable of being a manager, and it's paying off. I start training the end of the month for the new manger position! yeay! Yeah so I haven't been getting home til like 12 and that's why I wasn't able to update sooner. But thank you for sticking it through with me, I'm enjoying writing this story very much So enough rambling, here's chapter 8!

"Wow did you two make up!" Hilde asked as the two entered. Dorothy resided with Relena in a far corner of the shop. Quatre hesitated to answer or move any further in. Trowa took Quatre's hand and laced their fingers together, pulling him to the table by the counter.

"More than," Trowa commented. The girls had wanted a show, well now they had one. Proof that Quatre was gay, and that they were together. He felt a deep seeded satisfaction when they blushed and turned away.

"I heard you were disinherited… Or read rather. I'm sorry," Hilde said.

"Well I'm not being cut off from the family. I just told my father I wasn't interested in running the business. My eldest sisters were always into business and they've been working there so long, it only seemed fair. I'm actually the only one in my family without a career of some sort right now. My youngest older sister just got a teaching job in Chicago," Quatre replied.

"Tea for me," Trowa mentioned in between their conversation. Hilde nodded.

"At least your dad is still talking to you right? You were afraid he might not like that too much," Hilde said while she made their tea.

"I also told him I'm gay and he said he figured that," Quatre said laughing. He heard a loud spitting sound from behind him. He saw Dorothy choking.

"They've been here all day," Hilde whispered. "I suspect trying to find you to get under your skin. Speaking of which, Trowa, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I had an accident earlier with some paint and I had thought I was bleeding. I started to panic but Quatre cleaned me up," Trowa said.

"Oh wow! You're painting again!" Hilde exclaimed. He could feel the girls staring at him.

"That's right; I was supposed to show you before I sold them huh?" Trowa said scratching his head.

"Well you don't have to… but it would be an excuse to get out, and I could even go visit my brother," Hilde replied.

"It's not a problem. They're a little graphic," Trowa said softly.

"Like…" Hilde said, holding out the I sound.

"There's no nudity Hilde. Don't worry," Trowa assured her. Quatre handed her some money as she put the drinks on their table.

"Are you able to have me over tomorrow night?" Hilde asked. Trowa looked at Quatre and they both nodded. "That's so cute! I think Duo and Heero have stopped coming in because I go on and on about it."

"I'm sure they've just been busy with work," Quatre said.

"Can I ask a favor?" Hilde whispered. Quatre nodded. "Go talk to them and see what they want so they'll leave. There was a guy here with them earlier but he keeps coming and going, he wasn't annoying me like they are." Quatre nodded again. They sat together at the girls' table.

"So I've got a willing artist here," Quatre said.

"I can see that," Relena said with a smile. Quatre turned red. "My apologies." At least this one pretended to be nice. Dorothy was very blunt.

"Aren't you going to make Milliardo jealous?" Dorothy asked with an evil gleam in her eyes. Quatre turned a deeper shade of red. "Are you alright, by the way, Trowa?"

"I'm fine now," Trowa mumbled.

"I heard you had an accident with some paint," Relena said.

"I had a panic attack," Trowa said.

"It's probably just like when you look for your glasses when they're on your face. You got paint on you and you just freaked out," Relena said. She was inadvertently trying to make up for Dorothy being rude. She might not be as bad as he thought…

"So you're going to enter some painting in the show? It's next Saturday, the entries should be in by Friday. I'll write the address down for you. How many pieces?" Dorothy interrupted.

"Three, possibly four," Trowa replied.

"I'm very much looking forward to it. I never actually got to see the one you sold to Quatre's father," Relena said. "My brother was in L.A. for the show you had there. He's regrettably unable to attend, but he said if I saw one he'd like, to get it for him. He said you're extremely talented."

"Speaking of Milliardo, where is he?" Quatre asked.

"Oh you know him. He bores easily of our company," Dorothy commented.

"He's losing himself in the city. He's probably trying to get laid in all honesty…" Relena said sighing and shaking her head. "I'm surprised he came here with us at all. I guess he thought he'd get to see you, but alas, he's missing again. You're taken now anyhow," she said with a smile. Quatre blushed.

"I didn't know him to be the type to sleep around," Quatre said.

"He's secretly trying to dodge another arranged marriage. We all know that when the up and coming rich girls are out of stock because he's seducing young boys, that they're going to force him and I to get married because I already know all his secrets," Dorothy said smiling at Trowa.

"Are you serious? You would go through with that?" Quatre asked.

"There's not much choice when it comes to the great General Catalonia," Dorothy said rolling her eyes. "At least I'll know he's good looking. If not Milliardo it would've been some barbarian under his wing. I don't know if I could've stood that."

"I suppose that's better than nothing," Trowa said.

"What about love?" Quatre asked.

"Ms. Peacecraft here has such luxury, but I do not. Love is for people who believe in foolish things like peace and fairy tale endings," Dorothy said rudely.

"Perhaps it's because you're incapable of feeling anything but arrogance and only able to belittle others," Trowa snapped. Dorothy raised her eyebrows.

"I won't deny I'm a bit hardened, but I do not believe in love. Life for the children of the rich is written before birth. You do what you're told or you're out on the street. Quatre was just lucky. Relena is also lucky," Dorothy said.

"My parents agreed that I may look for my own husband so long as Milliardo eludes marriage. He was gone for months at a time on trysts with random men. Once he was gone a whole year. Actually, interestingly enough, he came home after seeing your exhibit Trowa. He hasn't gone missing for more than a week or so since then. Maybe I should thank you," Relena explained.

"That should give her about another 5 years to get married, huh?" Dorothy joked.

"Can I ask a personal question Quatre?" Relena questioned. Quatre nodded. "Did you and my brother actually have a relationship, or was it just…" Quatre bit his lip and blushed.

"Relena had the misfortune of catching us in the hallway," Quatre said to Trowa. Trowa tried to hide a smile. "No, we didn't have a relationship. He's uh… very persuasive to say the least."

"I wish I could-" Dorothy began.

"Dorothy," Relena warned. Dorothy held her tongue and smiled at the couple. She took out a small notebook and wrote the gallery address on it.

"For you," she said, handing the paper to Trowa. "I look forward to seeing your pieces."

"Are you leaving?" Quatre asked.

"Yes, we're off to have lunch. Then we have to unpack our things at the hotel. You're both welcome to join us later for drinks."

"I thought you said they were leaving today," Quatre said.

"My father called and said we could stay in the city until after the exhibit was taken care of. I'm also supposed to catch a few plays and let him know what he should take mother to see when he comes up here next month. Sometimes I feel like I'm one of the help," Relena said with a sigh.

"I'll bet they wish they went everywhere for free," Trowa said. Relena laughed.

"They work hard for their wages and I work hard for mine as well I suppose," she mused absently.

"Where is Milliardo staying?" Quatre asked.

"Damned if we know. We're lucky we saw him once since we touched down," Dorothy commented.

"I'm gonna go to the art store. You stay and talk with your friends. Do you want me to meet you back here or at my apartment?" Trowa interrupted suddenly. He just didn't feel comfortable. He knew Quatre could handle Dorothy, and Relena would keep her in line if she went too far.

"Uh, at the apartment. Would you mind if I joined you for lunch to catch up?" Quatre answered.

"That would be nice," Relena said. She smiled at Trowa and stood to shake his hand. "It was a pleasure meeting you. I hope you'll join us later."

"It's not like we had plans for tonight right?" Trowa asked Quatre.

"No. Just that you were going to paint, but we'll have plenty of time for that," Quatre assured him. Trowa kissed Quatre's temple and shook Dorothy's hand.

"I'll give Quatre the name of our hotel, and I'll have a limo pick you two up. We'll work the details out later," Dorothy said. Trowa nodded.

"See you later. It was nice to meet you both." He smiled at Quatre and waved to Hilde.

"See you tomorrow," she called to him as he departed for the art store. As they continued talking about their families, Milliardo came in. He sat in the chair beside Quatre and lounged in it.

"Speak of the devil," Dorothy murmured.

"This devil is going to end up your husband one day, _dear_," he said. Dorothy rolled her eyes.

"Well, until then, I'm not your anything."

"Hello Quatre," he purred, smiling at the blonde. "And Relena," he added to his sister who was crossing her arms.

"It would be nice if you at least had your cell phone with you. I don't want to be blamed when you go missing," she said.

"Not even 'if I go missing.' Am I really that bad?" Milliardo asked. He could tell Dorothy was staring at him and he moved his seat right next to Quatre and put his arm around the smaller blonde. "Am I bothering you Dorothy?" he asked, turning to smirk at her.

"Hello Milliardo," Quatre said blushing.

"Yes, you are that bad. Not since you were 23 and in L.A. for a year doing god knows what with who, but you never know," Relena said.

"I was dating an artist," Milliardo said simply.

"Quatre's dating an artist," Dorothy said with a smirk.

"You're not single anymore huh?" Milliardo asked.

"No," Quatre said quietly.

"I was going to take you out drinking tonight, but I guess that's out of the question now," Milliardo said, keeping his arm around the blonde.

"You're so rude Milliardo," Relena said staring at his arm.

"If Trowa came back he might get jealous," Dorothy commented.

"I knew a Trowa," Milliardo said.

"Yeah?" Quatre asked.

"Yes, but unfortunately my father all but physically removed me from L.A. I went to his exhibit hoping to talk with him to explain everything," Milliardo began. Quatre's heart started beating faster. 3 years ago, he'd been in L.A. for a year, and he knew Trowa. He was a blonde…

"What ridiculous name did you use in L.A. Milliardo? You should hear some of them. Was it the one you picked that rhymes with sex?" Dorothy said.

"Dorothy, stop it," Relena scolded. Dorothy smirked at Quatre as she saw him start to realize everything.

"Zechs. I didn't pick it because it rhymes with sex Dorothy. Don't worry, you won't be getting any from me," Milliardo said.

"Can I speak with you outside?" Quatre requested, standing abruptly. Milliardo shrugged and followed Quatre outside. "Trowa Barton."


	9. Feels Like Heartbreak

Yeay! I finally held true and updated soon! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, even if it's a little sad. Don't worry though! I'll try and make the next one happier! Oh also, this has a kind of explicit sex scene in it so, if you don't like that sort of thing, you shouldn't read the last half of this chapter.

"That was the artist I saw. If I could've hid out forever I would have. There was something about that kid I still can't get out of me. Just the passion he put into his work…"

"Why did you leave him? Didn't you try to write to him?" Quatre asked. Milliardo blinked a few times.

"My father sent some people who tracked me down through credit cards to bring me home. He threatened my inheritance and I told him to shove it. But then he said he would take away Relena's inheritance as well. I had to go with them. I wrote him every day for two weeks and twice a week for like 3 months after that. He never replied to any of them. I found out he was having an exhibit and I went there, but they told me he'd left already. He wasn't staying in the apartment I'd modeled in. He just dropped off the face of the planet. I haven't actually been with anyone since that…

I disappear for a week or two every once and a while to avoid getting stuck getting married. Dorothy fills the potential girl in on my history of men and then threatens them if they talk. Their family ends up backing out. My father ends up getting pissed off. He told me I was going to get stuck with Dorothy, and that's fine with me. I can handle her, and sometimes I think she enjoys this mind game we're playing. I'm pretty sure she knows about Trowa as well, but…" Milliardo explained.

"You didn't happen to see 'Of Despair,' while you were at that exhibit did you?" Quatre asked.

"What's your sudden interest in my love life? Are you jealous?" Milliardo teased.

"I'm dating Trowa now," Quatre said.

"Trowa Barton?" Milliardo asked.

"Yes. I've been trying to undo the damage that Zechs caused," Quatre said.

"I didn't hurt him. I mean, well obviously I hurt him because I just disappeared, but he hurt me too. He never replied to any of my letters. He just avoided me," Milliardo said.

"I don't think he got any of them Milliardo… Did you ever think that maybe your father was going through the mail before it went out to make sure you weren't in contact?" Quatre asked. He wanted to run to Trowa and make everything right, but that also meant he would be giving him up. He didn't know if he had the strength to do that yet…

"That actually would make a lot of sense…" Milliardo said. He sat on the concrete, covering his face.

"Are you alright?" Quatre asked softly. He kneeled in front of Milliardo.

"He must hate me… I… I swear to you Quatre, that I really loved him. I never had the nerve to tell him, but I loved him. If he forgave me for leaving I was going to publicly renounce my inheritance so he couldn't use Relena against me," Milliardo explained. He could feel Milliardo's heart sinking, breaking, probably all over again.

"Milliardo," Quatre said softly. He pulled the older boy's hand from his face to see him holding back tears.

"I know that I shouldn't ask you this Quatre, so forgive me. Could you explain what happened? All I want is his forgiveness. I don't want to steal him from you, you two are probably very happy together. And thank you for cleaning up whatever mess I caused. I know he loved me very much. He must have been so hurt…" Milliardo begged.

"He thought you left him because his painting was driving him mad," Quatre said.

"Sometimes I couldn't understand what he was doing. I couldn't feel everything he put into it. I said to him inadvertently that someone else would understand him better than me. He must be analyzing everything I ever said to him…"

"There's something else you should know…"

"Did he hurt himself?" Milliardo asked, knowing the answer before Quatre had finished the sentence. Quatre nodded.

"He cut himself… He really lost it after you left. He was painting when he did it, and he used his blood to finish the piece, the one my father bought. His friend Wufei had to clean him up. He thought it was best to move him to New York. I met him at this coffee shop and Hilde called me telling me he wanted me to model for him. We actually only started dating this afternoon. I don't think I can talk to him tonight, but I will during the week," Quatre said.

"Thank you Quatre. You don't know how much it means to me," Milliardo said. He stood up and hugged Quatre. Quatre hugged him back and nodded.

"Just… tell them to call me later. Tell them something came up, anything. Get my number from them and call me Wednesday, I'm usually teaching lessons while he hangs out in his apartment," Quatre requested. Milliardo nodded.

"Thank you Quatre," Milliardo whispered as the younger boy rushed off. He went to his own apartment to be alone, to think. There was no way he could hide this from Trowa, he'd sense something was wrong. He couldn't lie to him, but he was not at all prepared to tell him that not only was he wrong about Zechs, but it was also the family friend he'd had a crush on and had went down on him. 'I know you loved Zechs a lot, well guess what he still loves you, and he did everything in his power to keep in touch with you… Yes, I understand you can't see me anymore. I know I'm being very understanding, you're welcome. I just want you to be happy.' He imagined his dialogue.

If he loved Trowa the way he did, he should only want what made Trowa happy. Fixing his relationship with Zechs would actually be the best thing for Trowa. It would fix all his mental quirks and he would probably be who he was before. He would be bright and shining again, smiling and in love, but not with him. He would let himself be touched in public and he would paint passionately, not of pain and hatred. It wouldn't be Quatre who filled any of these positions. If he did this, he would have to give Trowa over to Zechs, and it would hurt him worse than any pain he'd ever felt. He thought he deserved a day or two to prepare for that…

He let himself into Trowa's apartment, but Trowa was not there. He left a note that he'd be in his apartment, to get him when he was back. He went back to his room and decided to take a shower. He stripped and stepped in to the tub, turning the water on warm, gradually making it hotter. He washed his hair and body and then just stood there. He let the water caress his body.

Trowa put the canvas down. It was a bit larger than the ones he had just worked with. He took the last painting and rested it against the wall next to the others. He saw a note on his pillow. 'I'm upstairs. Come get me when you're ready. Quatre.' He wondered if he had really been at the art store that long. He glanced at the clock and shook his head.

"There's no way he went to lunch and got back already. Something must have happened…" he said to himself. He grabbed Quatre's key and went upstairs. "Quatre?" he called out. He heard the soft hiss of the shower, and went to his room. "Quatre?" he said softly from the doorway.

"I didn't expect you to be back so soon," Quatre murmured.

"I could say that same," he retorted, coming closer to the frosted glass door. Quatre opened the door a crack and smiled at Trowa.

"Last time you came in my apartment like this you caught me naked. I'm shocked to find you standing outside my shower," Quatre joked, changing the subject.

"Well I don't think it's much of an issue any more is it?" Trowa said teasingly. Quatre blushed a little.

"Then maybe you should join me," he teased, half smiling as he closed the door. Trowa blushed and contemplated it. He couldn't think of a reason not to… He stood outside the bathroom and took his clothes off, resting them neatly on the side table. He opened the shower door making Quatre jump.

"You did invite me in," Trowa commented.

"I didn't think you'd take the offer seriously," Quatre admitted.

"Do you want me to get dressed again?" Trowa asked.

"Well, no… You can join me if you'd like," Quatre said moving away from the spray. Trowa stepped into the tub, letting the hot water soak him. He pulled the lithe boy close to him with one arm.

"I never did this with Zechs…" Trowa said softly. "So there's no reason it should trigger any memories. We should be safe this way…" Quatre nodded in acknowledgement. He put his arms around Trowa's neck. Trowa leaned down to kiss Quatre, easing open his lips to gain entry to his mouth. His hands moved down Quatre's back, resting on his butt. Quatre pressed closer to Trowa.

"Oh," Quatre uttered, feeling his body react to Trowa. Trowa's mouth moved to his neck, kissing and sucking gently at it. He bit Quatre's shoulder, moaning as he felt Quatre touching him.

"Quatre," he whispered, slamming their lips together. He traced kisses down Quatre's throat, running fingers over his nipples. Quatre made a pleasured sound, urging him to continue. He pressed Quatre against the tiles, who gasped at the sudden cold. He smirked at the blonde who had his eyes closed. He gripped Quatre's erection and the boy nearly collapsed.

"Trowa," he moaned softly. Trowa twitched in pleasure. Hearing his name on Quatre's lips like that seemed a sin. He kneeled down, hovering between Quatre's legs until the boy looked down at him. He smirked and ran his tongue over the tip. "Oh…" He took the head in his mouth, sucking lightly on it, running his tongue around it over and over. Quatre faltered again, nearly falling, but Trowa braced his legs. He felt Quatre's fingers in his hair, gripping hesitantly.

He slowly moved further on Quatre, about halfway before moving back. He could hear Quatre panting, moaning softly, and quivering at the feeling. He wondered if Quatre had been like this when Milliardo had touched him… He ran his tongue along the length, and started a rhythm. Quatre's hands tangled endlessly in his hair, he could even feel his nails a little. He took Quatre all the way in, and Quatre twitched when he felt himself touch the back of Trowa's throat. He moaned loudly despite his resolve to be quiet.

"Oh, Trowa," he moaned at the feeling. He sounded as though he couldn't make up his mind what to do. "Trowa I'm gonna…" he said, cut off by another moan. He tried to pull Trowa's mouth away from him, but Trowa would not let him. He was so close, he was… "Trowa!" he cried out, half in pleasure and half in warning. Quatre came relatively quick, twitching a little after his release. Trowa swallowed his seed and helped him sink to the ground. He was aching for his own release, but desperate to hear his name cried from those lips again, louder… "I'm sorry… I…" Quatre began breathlessly.

"I wanted to. I knew you were warning me," Trowa said making the blonde blush. Quatre's eyes trailed down Trowa's chest. He blushed again when he saw how exciting he was. "It's actually a turn on when you blush," Trowa whispered, sucking on Quatre's earlobe, knowing he was blushing furiously.

"Trowa I want you to…" Quatre said, swallowing hard. Trowa released Quatre's ear but did not move from his position. "I want you inside me…" Quatre felt ashamed of himself. He just wanted it once, one memory to hold on to. One night that they only felt for each other, before he was gone…

"Are you sure?" Trowa asked. Quatre nodded, moving back to kiss Trowa. He moved so they were long ways in the tub and pulled Trowa on top of him. "Quatre, is something wrong?" Trowa asked, breaking the kiss. He could feel how tense Quatre was. He wouldn't let Trowa see his face; he just wrapped his arms tightly around him.

"I'm just a little nervous…" Quatre whispered. He kissed Trowa's ear, running his tongue along the side of his ear.

"Quatre," Trowa whispered, unable to break from his grip. Quatre moved his hips up against Trowa, exciting him. He figured that Quatre would tell him what was wrong later. As much as he wanted Quatre, this felt wrong in a way. It felt like Quatre was begging him to stay rather than make love to him. "Let's not do it in the shower," Trowa said. Quatre loosened his grip enough for Trowa to slip away. He shut off the water and picked up the blonde. He dried them off and put Quatre on the bed.

"I have some lotion in the top drawer," Quatre said. Trowa laughed a little despite himself. The laugh lightened the mood though. Quatre relaxed a little. Trowa retrieved the lotion and pushed Quatre's legs apart. He kissed his inner thighs, eliciting a soft breathy sound from Quatre.

"You're sure you're ok?" Trowa asked, putting some lotion on his pointer and middle fingers. Quatre nodded.

"I know you won't hurt me," Quatre whispered. He arched into Trowa's touch when he felt fingers moving in circular motions around his entrance. He was getting excited again. Trowa pressed a fingertip in Quatre, feeling him tense so much it almost hurt.

"You have to relax Quatre," he said, motioning for the boy to sit up. He placed feather light kisses on Quatre's face and neck. He started kissing him, pressing his finger a little farther in and withdrawing it as Quatre calmed down. He wanted to hear Quatre's breathy moans, but he needed to help him relax. He inadvertently shoved his finger all the way inside Quatre when he felt the timid grip Quatre made on his erection. He broke the kiss to whimper at the feeling.

"Trowa," he whispered, letting his eyes fall closed again. Trowa worked his way up to two fingers as Quatre jerked him awkwardly. The touch excited him none the less. "I'm not very good at this… I'm sorry…"

"Don't be ridiculous Quatre," Trowa whispered. He used more lotion and met resistance as he attempted using a third finger. Quatre took some lotion and used it on Trowa, pumping his cock with long even strokes. Trowa faltered. He groaned and bit his lip in pleasure.

"You're making me feel so good," Quatre said breathlessly. Trowa eased a third finger into Quatre finally, stretching him and getting him used to the feeling.

"Would you rather me be on the bottom Quatre?" Trowa asked. Quatre shook his head.

"I told you that I want this. I want to feel you inside of. I want you to make love to me, now," Quatre answered sternly. Trowa nodded and positioned himself.

"It will hurt for a little while Quatre, but you have to remember to stay relaxed. It'll start to feel good," Trowa warned. Quatre nodded. He pushed the tip into Quatre and met with unbelievable resistance. It also felt amazing, and he groaned trying to move. He needed to get all the way in so Quatre could get used to the feeling.

"I'm sorry," Quatre cried, tensing even more if that was possible. Trowa moaned loudly.

"If you stay this tight I might be finished before we start," Trowa said with a small laugh. He ran his hands soothingly over Quatre's chest. He rolled Quatre's nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Quatre moaned softly and relaxed. He pressed the rest of the way in finally. "Are you alright?"

"Was it like this for you?" Quatre asked, trying to stay composed.

"I wasn't as nervous as you. It was a lot easier for Zechs than for me I think," Trowa replied, laughing a little.

"I'm embarrassed… I wanted to be good for you," Quatre said sadly. Trowa cupped his face and kissed him.

"I could probably finish right now if you kept tensing around me, without me moving at all. I don't want to be the only one to get something out of this. I… I love you Quatre… I want to make love to you, and make you feel incredible. Whatever it is that's on your mind, you need to let go of it for now. Forget the rest of the world and just concentrate on me," Trowa whispered.

"I love you Trowa," Quatre whimpered, wrapping his arms around the taller boy. Trowa could hear traces of finality. He could feel Quatre begging him not to leave, but he couldn't imagine why…

"I'm not going anywhere Quatre, I promise," Trowa whispered. Quatre finally let go of his fear and relaxed. He forced himself to get used to the feeling and then started to make noises of pleasure.

"Hold me," Quatre pleaded. Trowa moved so that they were both in a sitting position and pulled the boy close to him. He helped Quatre continue to move.

"Why are you so sad Quatre?" Trowa whispered, more to himself than to the blonde. He held Quatre's face in his hands and kissed him. When they broke away he saw a tear falling. "Am I still hurting you?"

"It does hurt a little more this way," Quatre said elusively. Trowa knew he was hiding something, but he needed this. He had to hold on to the memory of Trowa making love to him if he was going to ever recover. Trowa moved them back to the way they had been, he groaned as Quatre tightened around him. "I'm close." Trowa put a hand between them to touch Quatre's erection. "Trowa," Quatre moaned. He was crying out every time Trowa went deep inside him.

"Does that feel good?" Trowa asked. Quatre moaned in response. "I've found your spot," he mused, moving a little harder to elicit more of those sweet sounds from Quatre's lips. "Quatre," Trowa groaned, feeling the boy tighten around him.

"I'm gonna cum," he breathed. Trowa captured his lips in a kiss as they both came together, taking them to a high neither of them had ever experienced. He leaned heavily on Quatre, who was breathing long and deep. Quatre wrapped his arms lazily around Trowa, tracing fingers over his back.

"Quatre?" Trowa murmured into the boy's neck.

"Mmm?"

"I love you," Trowa whispered. Quatre started to quiver underneath the boy. "You're trembling," he said in alarm. He sat up and stared at the blonde.

"I love you so much Trowa," Quatre said.

"Quatre, what's wrong?" Trowa asked, easing out of the blonde. He winced at the feeling. "Sorry."

"Can we go back in the shower?" Quatre asked, wanting to wash himself off. Trowa nodded, picking the boy up. They sat under the spray, Trowa massaging Quatre's scalp. "I've been selfish…"

"Don't be absurd," Trowa retorted. Quatre turned to face Trowa.

"I found something out today, that could help you. Instead of telling you I asked something of you that I probably shouldn't have. I just wanted you to make love to me so I could hold the memory close to me," Quatre began, seemingly speaking in riddles to Trowa.

"If it was selfish of you to ask then it was selfish for me to accept. I knew something was bothering you and I did it anyway," Trowa retorted again.

"If you found out there were plausible reasons for why… why Zechs left you," Quatre forced out.

"Why would you bring that up now?"

"Zechs… Zechs is Milliardo," Quatre whispered with tears in his eyes.

"What?" Trowa asked incredulously. "Milliardo? The one that went down on you? Relena's brother?" Quatre only had the strength to nod. "Milliardo is Zechs…"

"He didn't leave you because he didn't care Trowa. His father found him and threatened to disinherit him. He would have done that for you, but then he threatened Relena. Milliardo loves her more than anyone in the world, he's only ever protected her and made sure things went perfectly for her. He tried to write you letters, he said he wrote you for three months and then tried to find you at your art show but you'd left already. He was very upset when he was talking to me. I know that he was telling the truth. He's still willing to publicly disinherit himself to protect Relena and be with you because he loves you," Quatre rambled as he tried not to cry.

"What's wrong with you Quatre?" Trowa yelled. He grabbed him, squeezing his shoulders.

"I'm not lying! He wanted you to forgive him and I want you to. You were so happy before, and now that you know he didn't abandon you-"

"That's not what I'm talking about Quatre! Do you think knowing that makes everything better? It certainly doesn't erase all the pain and all the damage it's caused me these past years! It doesn't take away this scar! I don't care what Zechs, Milliardo wants! You're the one who pulled me out of my depression and stood by me! If he loved me so much he would've been honest with me and had the strength to cut his father out of his life before his father had a chance to blackmail him! We weren't even together and you were ready to forsake the relationship with your father in the hope that one day we would be! And now we are and you think I would even consider leaving you!" Trowa shouted, tears welling up and streaming down his cheek. He couldn't feel the tears so he wasn't aware that he was crying.

"I don't know what I was thinking. I was just so afraid. I don't know if I could take it if you left…" Quatre whimpered. Trowa pulled him into a hug and squeezed him so tightly he thought he might suffocate him. Quatre's arms went around him and squeezed him tightly as well.

"I love you Quatre. What you told me… it does make me feel better. Maybe in time I could let go of these ill feelings and attempt to speak with him, but not any time soon. I've still got a lot of healing to do, and you're going to be the one that pulls me through all this," Trowa said kissing the top of Quatre's head. "Come on now, we're going out tonight with your friends, even if he is there. I've got you now, to protect me."

"Trowa I love you so much," Quatre whispered, nuzzling into the brunette again. The phone rang and prompted them to finally get out of the shower. Quatre rushed to answer it.

"Hey you ran off so quickly Quatre! What time did you want us to pick you two up tonight?" Relena asked.

"How about 8?" Quatre asked.

"Sounds great. Hey is it alright if Milliardo comes?" Relena asked.

"It's fine," Quatre assured.

"Are you sure?" Relena asked. "You seemed pretty shaken up before…"

"Don't worry about it. I've worked it out," Quatre assured again.

"Dorothy kind of changed the plans," Relena said.

"What are we doing then?" Quatre asked.

"Going to a club or something… She feels like dancing," Relena said with a sigh.

"Hey, can you dance?" Quatre called out.

"I suppose," Trowa answered. He came into the bedroom, dressed again. "Are we going dancing?" Quatre nodded. "Is Zechs coming?" Quatre nodded again. Trowa raised his head up and sighed. "You'll just have to help me stay strong."

"So are you sure you still want to come?" Relena asked.

"Yeah, we'll be there."


	10. The Hardest Decision To Make

WOO! Chapter 10! Actually, not too long after this the end is coming. I still haven't quite come up with an ending, so there'll probably be 3 or 4 more chapters. I'm so proud I followed through on a story so long. I've been writing a lot of Heero/Quatre fics lately actually... Lol so maybe you can look forward to those after this, but def more Trowa/Quatre. I know this is a little short, but like I said, I'm trying to figure out how to work out the ending. Thank you to all my reviewers! I love you! You really make my day and encourage me to write more! Anyway... here's number 10!

The club left something to be desired. The music was fine, but it seemed only rich snobs were allowed inside. People were getting high in the bathrooms. Dorothy and Relena were having cocktails at a table by the bar, while Milliardo was sitting at the bar with his whiskey.

"Glad you could come," Dorothy said with an evil glint in her eyes. If he were not such a good man, Trowa probably would have hit her. He smiled coldly at her before pulling Quatre to the dance floor. He'd be damned if they spent one more minute with her staring at them that way tonight. They kind of fell into a rhythm as they listened to the music. Every time he saw Zechs he held Quatre tighter. Flashes of skin, whispers of words, paint, blood… He could see 'Milliardo' tugging down Quatre's pants in the hallway, excited that they could get caught as Quatre turned red and tried to hide himself.

"_Milliardo! What if my father comes down this way? Or your sister?" Quatre whispered loudly. He leaned heavily on the small table, almost knocking the vase over. The older blonde just smirked at him while he unbuttoned Quatre's pants._

"_Quatre… Why don't you worry about what's about to happen now, not what might happen later," Milliardo whispered, slipping his hand into Quatre's boxers. Quatre gasped._

"_Milliardo, why are you doing this?" Quatre asked. His breath hitched and his eyes slid closed as the older boy stroked him._

"_Because you're sexy… I've wanted to touch you for so long Quatre…" he whispered into Quatre's ear, sucking on the lobe._

"When did Zechs touch you Quatre?" Trowa asked, stopping them suddenly.

"Probably a few months before he met you," Quatre replied quizzically. Trowa looked over at the older blonde and held Quatre possessively. "Why are you asking that now?"

"I don't know…" Trowa replied. He just wanted to know. Maybe to see if he had really meant something to Zechs, or if Quatre had. Quatre nuzzled into his boyfriend but the contact was cut short by the clearing of another throat. Dorothy stood next to the couple smiling.

"Quatre, could I speak with you about the exhibit?" she asked. Trowa knew she was trying to separate them so Zechs could do something. Trowa let go of the blonde, who stared at him with worry.

"Trowa?" he whispered. Trowa half smiled at him and cupped his cheek.

"Meet me back at the apartment," he replied, before Dorothy dragged his lover away. He walked slowly and uncaring toward the bar, interrupting Zech almost as quickly as he started talking.

"Trowa, I-"

"We'll talk at my apartment," he said. Making sure Zechs was following he made his way to the door and had the limo drive them. He could feel Zechs' eyes on him which caused his skin to tingle and crawl at the same time. Trowa went straight to the kitchen to pour himself a drink, watching Zechs look at the watercolors he'd done of Quatre.

"You're still amazing," he whispered. Trowa went to the bedroom, waiting until Zechs entered to flick the light on. "You're actually painting?" he asked, regarding the canvases against the wall that he barely glanced at.

"There's something I want from you," Trowa said, undoing the buttons of his shirt.

"What are you doing?" Zechs asked, feeling the cold emotion emanating from the younger boy, the pure hatred directed at him.

"Come on Zechs, you always liked my body right? To look at it? To touch it?" Trowa questioned in mock seduction.

"It wasn't just your body Trowa," Zechs retorted.

"Then my naivety? Because I was innocent, like Quatre? Because I let you do whatever you wanted to me without a second thought? It was because you liked to be in control isn't it?" Trowa asked, sauntering toward the older blonde man.

"Trowa stop this! You know that isn't true," Zechs yelled, face contorting at the accusations. "I loved you!" he yelled. "I still love you!"

"Is that so? You wanna see what your love did to me Zechs?" Trowa snarled. He let his shirt fall off his shoulders so that he could see the scar. Zechs froze, his lungs refused to give him air. The only response he could fathom to the sight was to touch it. As his fingers traced over his chest, Trowa bit his lip hard, trying not to flinch away; to be strong and make sure Zechs got the full effect of what he had gone through. Zechs finally turned away, but Trowa grabbed him by the collar.

"Trowa, please," Zechs whispered, a sight almost worth pitying…

"This is what happened the last time I painted. Look what I've painted now!" Trowa snarled, shoving him toward the wall. "This is what I was to you, nothing more!" he yelled. "Your sex toy, to shame and use at your will. I was all too willing for your touch. Then you left and as my soul withered and died inside of me I cut myself open to kill the vessel that held it. As I painted what I thought would be my last, I smeared my blood on the canvas so that you would see how you destroyed me. And though you can't see that, you can see this one," Trowa said, referring to the two painting Zechs could see. He turned the third around and Zechs' mouth fell open. Tears were falling down his cheek and he fell to his knees. He was shaking and Trowa stayed strong and silent as he watched the man he'd loved fall apart before his eyes as he came to understand the torture Trowa had endured.

"I…" Zechs squeaked. He was unable to say much more. As he looked at Trowa, reaching out to him with bloody fingers, bleeding from the scar when it had been open. Blood was splattered on the floor and pooled down his body. Presumably, this is what he had looked like while finishing 'Of Despair.' "I wrote to you. I tried to find you at the exhibit in L.A." Trowa kneeled down and pressed a hard kiss against Zechs' lips.

"A kiss goodbye. I don't ever want to see you again," Trowa whispered, almost hearing the pieces of the blonde's heart shatter in his chest. He stood up and Zechs stood, nearly falling as moved closer to the brunette. He pulled him close and pressed a loving kiss to Trowa's lip, to which he received a smack in the face.

"I did the only thing I could to make up for it," Zechs said.

"Oh? What was that? Abandoning me? I never got any letters! You were able to sneak away to the exhibit, but never any time before that?" Trowa yelled, hitting him again. As he went to hit him a third time, Zechs grabbed his wrist.

"I gave you the only person who could ever truly understand you," Zechs said.

"What are you talking about?" Trowa growled, wrenching his hand free.

"When I found out about your show, I had them send Mr. Winner an invitation. He asked me to join him since Quatre was going away to school, so my father could not tell me no," Zech began. Trowa swallowed hard and shook his head. He started to feel sick.

"Don't tell me that," Trowa said, tearing in anger.

"I saw 'Of Despair' Trowa. I knew Mr. Winner would but it. I knew Quatre would search for you and I hoped he would find you. I knew the first time I saw you that it wouldn't last forever, but I selfishly held on to you anyway. When they took me away I saw it as a sign. I often thought if I'd introduced you to Quatre while we were together, you would end up falling for him instead, that you two would be better for each other. I think I was correct in assuming this. I just want you to know I've loved you for a long time, and it was never my intention for you to get hurt, or… hurt yourself because of me…" Zechs explained, touching the scar once again.

"So you tried Quatre out to see if he was gay then delivered him to me? How compassionate! Whatever you meant to happen with me obviously went awry Zechs! I hate you! What could you even hope to accomplish telling me you didn't intend to hurt me? This is your scar on my chest and in my soul, and your apologies will never make them heal!" Trowa yelled, finally crying.

"What happened with Quatre months before I met you. I had had a crush on him for a few years. I'm still attracted to him in all honesty. I just knew after what happened at his house that I wasn't what he was looking for so I let him alone. Nothing else has ever happened with him, or anyone since you Trowa. Why is it everything I do seems to hurt you?" Zechs asked, catching the boy as he collapsed in sobs.

"How dare you tell me these things! I was finally happy. I was finally forgetting you and you tell me you're responsible! I'm still a pawn in your twisted game," Trowa muttered.

"Quatre came to you out of his own will. I was sure he would, but I have nothing to do with what happened between you. If forgetting me will take the pain away then please forget me. I'll disappear and you'll never have to see me again. Let me just stay with you until Quatre gets back so you don't have to be alone," Zechs whispered.

"How can I forget you? How can I hate you with you here now? You shouldn't stay. I might hurt Quatre if you stay," Trowa whispered in shame. Being here in Zechs' arms, whispering words of love and apologies, it was like he was dreaming. If Zechs took advantage of the situation he wasn't sure he would be strong enough to resist the touch his body was screaming for. Much to his relief there was a knock on the door and Zechs went to answer the door. Dorothy stood there and handed him a box.

"Give this to Trowa. It'll solve all your problems," she said with a smirk. She left without another word and Zechs did as he was told with a confused look on his face.

"Dorothy brought this for you…" Zechs said, eyeing the box with suspicion. "She said it would solve everything… What did that mean? Where was Quatre?

"Dorothy?" Trowa whispered, opening the lid. He cried out and dropped the box as he started to sob again. Letters in open envelopes postmarked years ago scattered across the floor. They were all addressed to him from Zechs. There must have been close to 40 letters there. Zechs picked one up and stared at it.

"If they were sent… then why didn't you get them?" Zechs wondered out loud. "And how did Dorothy get them?"

"She tracked you down in L.A. because you had disappeared. When she found out you were dating a boy, on top of knowing what you did with me she had a breakdown. She told your father, and he had you brought home. She even told him to threaten you with Relena, because she knew it was the only thing you'd leave Trowa for. When she saw the letter for him in the mail she flew to L.A. and stole them out of the mail until she was sure you'd stopped writing them. She couldn't understand why she wasn't good enough for you to love, to marry, even if she acts cold and distant," Quatre explained from the doorframe.

"I knew she was scheming something," Trowa said.

"When she saw my name in the paper and how eager you were to come visit me, she thought you would make a move on me this time. When she saw Trowa, she was afraid she would lose you again. That is until she found out him and I were together. She had to take steps to make sure you suffered knowing what you had lost, but when she saw you two leave together, she knew she didn't have any chance at all. You would be willing to hurt me to have him back," Quatre continued. There were tears in his eyes.

"That's not true! I would never do anything to hurt you!" Zechs retorted.

"Come on… I've only been fooling myself thinking I could hold on to Trowa after he found out you loved him. I know he said he would never leave me for you, but I understand, really. It's better this way," Quatre said, nodding. Trowa stared at him, seeing him trying to stay strong.

"How long have you been standing there?" Zechs asked.

"Long enough to see that what happened between you two isn't dead and buried. And with this confession, how could I stand between you two?" Quatre asked.

"No," Trowa whispered, barely able to speak. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. His throat was getting tight.

"Don't you love him Milliardo? Don't you want him to be happy?" Quatre asked. "I do."

"I do love Trowa. I want him to be happy, but I've caused him so much suffering. I don't deserve a second chance. I could've tried so much harder! I could've-"

"Don't say such things. You did whatever you could. You suffered just like Trowa, and if you two are together again, neither of you will have to suffer anymore," Quatre said, a tear finally leaking from the corner of his eye.

"Stop!" Trowa rasped. Quatre looked over to him.

"Trowa, if you loved me more than him, you wouldn't have to be worried that you'd cheat on me. You love Zechs still, more than anyone in the world. I'm just glad that I helped you heal enough to find true happiness again," Quatre said. He walked over to the brunette and kissed him softly. "A goodbye kiss," he mused, forcing a pleasant smile through the pain. Trowa stood in shock, unable to say or do anything in response as Quatre walked toward the door.

"Are you going to abandon him too?" Zechs yelled. Quatre stopped. "Do you think telling him this is what's right and leaving him with me solves everything? Just because he's going to forgive me, doesn't mean he's going to jump back in my arms and declare his love. He will always love me Quatre, but it's the same as I'll always love you even when I knew we weren't right for each other," Zechs said.

"What?" Quatre asked.

"I knew from the moment I met you that we were wrong for each other, but still I wanted to be with you. I wanted you to be intoxicated with me like I was with you, but it just never happened. Even in the hallway, I could tell you yearned for the love I couldn't give. When I met Trowa, I knew it wouldn't last, but he fell for me the way I wished you would. I fell in love with him as well, but I always knew I was taking advantage of him. He was so blinded by love that he could not see that there was someone better for him that could understand him fully and love him completely. That's you Quatre," Zechs explained. Both boys had their eyes on him now, shocked even further by these new confessions.

"Zechs, regardless, you can't turn him away. He needs you," Quatre said.

"Fine then. I'll only take Trowa back if he can stand to do the same thing to you as I did to him," Zechs said. Both of them looked at Trowa who was staring at Quatre.

"I'm still standing here you know!" Trowa yelled, finally breaking his almost silence. "I can hear you! Who said either of you could decide what I do with my life?" he yelled, almost knocking Quatre over as he ran out of the room, the apartment, the building… He went for a long walk, wondering what he should do. He would go to Wufei, but he would probably just stab Zechs and watch him bleed to death.

This was really all Dorothy's fault…


	11. The Right Blonde

Woo! Update! Yeah so, I'm kinda stuck after this... I'm really sorry. I'm gonna try my best to get the next chapter done, but I can't promise when, just that hopefully next week it'll be done. Reviews are appreciated as always And I'm sorry I made things so complicated. I can't seem to write a story without adding 57 plot twists lol. So yeah here's 11! I'm thinking 12 or 13 will be the end, if I can come up with it. And don't worry, Trowa will end up with the right blonde

"Trowa!" he heard. A familiar voice… He turned around to see Hilde closing the coffee shop. Maybe she could tell him what to do? It was worth it just to talk out what was going on in his head, even if she couldn't help. She opened up just for him, and locked the doors. She made them some hot chocolate and listened intently as he explained the situation.

"And I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I feel obligated to both of them. And on top of it Zechs loves Quatre too; he loved him before we met. Maybe I should tell Quatre to be with Zechs and solve all the problems…" Trowa murmured, stewing over his Styrofoam cup.

"It seems like both of them think you should be with the other. Quatre thinks it will cure you to be with Zechs, since you know he really did love you all this time, and that bitch fucked everything up. He feels like Zechs deserves a second chance. Zechs loves you still, but thinks Quatre deserves you because he helped you overcome the pain he had caused unintentionally because of that bitch. I don't really know what to tell you other then… I'll get a gun and we can go kill Dorothy first of all," Hilde began, reiterating everything for clarity.

"But she only did that stuff because she was in love with Zechs," Trowa said, feeling sorry for her. He knew how it felt to feel like the person you loved never cared about you.

"Yeah, but it wasn't just his life she messed with. She could've even come to you and explained things. I think she just gets off on fucking with other people. She's not a good person Trowa… Maybe Duo could give you some advice as far as the decision goes. I have something that will make you really happy though," she said, pulling a paper out of her pocketbook. Trowa looked at it skeptically. "Unfold it!" she squealed.

"The circus?" Trowa asked. Hilde put a finger on the girl in the picture.

"Look who it is!" she yelled. She was bouncing around waiting for Trowa to look closer. She put the paper right up to his face.

"I can't see with it that close," Trowa said with a laugh. As she pulled the paper back his mouth fell open. She took an envelope out of her bag and laid it on the table. "Catherine?" he whispered.

"Read the letter! I got it on my lunch break when I stopped home. I couldn't wait to tell you! I was going to come over after I closed too!"

"Dear Hilde, I know it's been a long time! I'm really sorry. I moved out of the house as soon as I could. I've been traveling with the circus so I haven't been able to get on a computer. I'm writing this in advance, hoping you're still living in New York, at the address you gave me back in L.A. Here are two backstage tickets and a flyer with the dates and address of when I'll be in town. Hopefully, I'll see you! Bring your brother or your boyfriend! I'll try and drop by your place when we get in, the day before the show. Hopefully you won't hate me for not keeping in touch. Sincerely, Catherine Bloom," Trowa read.

"At least one thing is going your way! And I'm sure Duo can help you with the boyfriend issue. He's always good at stuff like that. Come on, let's get back so that they don't worry about you ne?" Hilde said patting him on the shoulder. Trowa smiled and nodded. "I'll go in your apartment, or Quatre's and let them know you're ok, and you can spend the night with me at Duo's if you want."

"How do you know that's gonna be ok?" Trowa asked.

"Duo's my brother. He'd always lend a helping hand," Hilde said, nodding. As it turned out Quatre and Zechs were in Quatre's apartment, hoping to give Trowa some space. Hilde left Trowa in his own apartment to shower and change while she went up to tell the other two he was going to be fine. Quatre flung the door open, slightly disappointed to se Hilde standing there.

"What brings you here at 11 Hilde? I'm not really up for a lesson right now."

"I came to let you know Trowa's alright, albeit a little hurt," Hilde responded. Quatre let her in and she finally met 'Zechs.'

"Did he give you a message for us?" Zechs asked.

"He's very hurt and upset that the people he loves most in the world want nothing to do with him. Even more so that they were arguing for the other to take him as though he were an object and not a person with feelings," Hilde said. Both blondes looked to the floor. "He thinks maybe you two getting together would solve all the problems," she added.

"So he could suffer alone? Does he really want either of us after this?" Zechs asked.

"Why were you trying to give him up? He feels so betrayed," she said to Quatre.

"I just wanted everything to be the way it was before. He knows Zechs still loves him, and if they're together he won't have to hurt anymore. It wasn't an easy thing to do, but I felt it was what was best for Trowa. I could never begin to make Trowa feel the things he felt painting Zechs or any aspect of their relationship," Quatre answered.

"And you?" she asked Zechs.

"It would be wrong of me to take advantage of this situation. Trowa is with Quatre. He's helped Trowa start to become the person I knew again. If he wasn't here I doubt I'd have ever had a chance again, much less find out what Dorothy did. If Quatre hadn't helped him and loved him, he would never have begun to forgive me," Zechs responded.

"Don't you love him? Don't you?" Hilde asked looking between them.

"Of course," Zechs answered first.

"Yes, I do," Quatre furthered.

"Then maybe, if you both love him, you should fight for him. You should be fighting about why you deserve him, not how to pass him off, and the reasons why he shouldn't be with you. You've made him feel like love is nothing, and everything should follow some rules of right and wrong. He thinks it would probably be best, in that case, if you two got together. Maybe you should think about that next time you fight to get rid of him," Hilde said.

"I love you both," Zechs began daringly. "If…if it could be that way, the three of us…" Quatre's eyes widened, as did Hilde's.

"If that's what Trowa wanted… I would do that for him, even if I had to share him to be loved by him," Quatre said in concurrence.

"I'll let him know," Hilde assured them. She left them talking quietly between themselves and went back to Duo's apartment. "So what do you make of Trowa's plight?" she asked.

"It's very complicated," Duo answered.

"Well it's about to get even more complicated," Hilde said with a nod. She collapsed on the couch as Duo raised an eyebrow. "Zechs and Quatre agreed that they would share you, if you couldn't decide between them," she said to the brunette.

"That's a bad idea. One of them will get extremely jealous, or they'll end up more into each other than you. Three people relationships always end bad," Duo commented.

"The only way to decide is in your heart. Don't think about the right and wrong. Don't think about what you 'owe' to either of them. You have to feel it in your heart after you take away all the reasons, who you truly love, who you truly desire to spend the rest of your life with," Heero said. He put an arm around Duo and kissed his temple.

"I can't help but think of the reasons," Trowa said. "I'm going to end up hurting one of them…"

"Well if you can't forget voluntarily, I have something else. If you could erase all the memories acquainted with Zechs or Quatre, which one would you choose?" Heero proposed.

"Things would have been different with Quatre if I erased Zechs," Trowa remarked.

"Let's pretend that you'd have the same memories regardless, after this moment, if you had to erase one of them…" Heero said as Trowa thought.

"If it weren't for Zechs, I would never have known Quatre. If it weren't for Quatre I never would've known what happened with Zechs… They just keep running circles into each other…" Trowa murmured to himself.

"You're avoiding the question," Hilde whispered.

"If one of them were going to leave forever, never to return, who would you choose to stay with you? Who is it you could not live without?" Duo asked.

Memories of Zechs flashed through his head. The beach, the apartment, the paintings, the sex… They were chaotic, frenzied with emotions. With Quatre's memories however, things calmed in his head. His smile lit up the room, and his laugh made Trowa feel not so hollow anymore. He could see how selfless Quatre had been in all this, risking his inheritance and his relationship with his father to help him, to be with him. Zechs could never love him as deeply or selflessly as Quatre.

It had to be Quatre, just like he'd told the younger boy earlier. Quatre was his savior. He would have to do something before he could remain faithful to Quatre's heart. Just as Quatre wanted to hold on to the memory of them making love when he thought Trowa would leave him, Trowa felt Zechs deserved the same, forgiveness in a sense. He wasn't sure if this was the right thing to do, but he felt it was what needed to be done. He would have to read Zechs' letters as well before he returned them to the older blonde to do with as he wished.

"Who is it?" Hilde asked.

"It's complicated, but I think I have it all worked out. Thank you all so much for listening to me and helping me through this," he said simply. He hugged Hilde and nodded to Duo and Heero. He returned to his apartment and took the letters out of their envelopes. The letters fully explained his situation. How he was falling apart without Trowa beside him. How Relena meant the world to him, and she had never forsaken him, and he could not let her be punished for something he did that pissed off his father. The letters got more depressing, explain how sorry he was, begging Trowa to write back, to send him a phone number, leaving his number and an address of an apartment he sometimes lived in while fight with his father. He begged Trowa to come see him. Every letter got worse, some even had obvious tear stains on them, little smeared letters…

'You may be mad at me. You may never forgive me for being so weak. After my sister, you are the most important person in my life. I love you Trowa… If you come here now, I'll tell Relena everything, and I'll renounce myself as an heir so that we can be together again. I worry that you're suffering, sitting alone in the apartment… Please reply to this letter, if not I shall write only once more, to say my goodbyes. It would seem this is your wish, and if that is what makes you feel better Trowa, making me suffer alongside you, then I shall leave you alone. Know that I am suffering here without you, and I will forever suffer without you by my side. I never meant for things to come this far, but they have, and you will forever remain in my heart Trowa…'

This was the only letter aside from the last that Zechs had said 'I love you.' The last letter said simply, he loved Trowa, he would give him the space he needed, never to forget him, and promise to some day try and forgive him all the pain and suffering Trowa endured at his hand. The letters only strengthened his decision on what to do. He knew first, he would have to explain it to Quatre, to see if it was something he could endure…

He let himself into Quatre's apartment and crawled into bed with him. He stared longingly at him. He didn't want to wake him, but couldn't resist brushing the hair back with his fingertips. Quatre stirred slightly and groaned as he opened his eyes. "Trowa?" he whispered hopefully.

"Quatre I need to ask a favor…"

"Anything."

"This is no small favor Quatre, and it's more something I need you to allow me to do before I can truly belong to you."

"What is it?"

"In order to let go of Zechs…" he began. "I need to…"

"…Like how I wanted to hold on to that one memory of us?" Quatre asked, trying to understand. Trowa nodded.

"I think he deserves this one memory. Even if I was with him I could never forget the pain he made me feel. And I don't think I could live much at all without you Quatre. You are my muse, my angel, my savior… I hate to ask you to endure-"

"If this is what you need to do, then do it. I will not hold it against you or bring it up in conversation. If this means you will be mine…" Quatre interrupted.

"Only yours, forever," Trowa assured him.

"Then I can endure anything," Quatre said, putting a hand on Trowa's cheek. "When?"

"Tomorrow. When it's done, I'll come back here to you," Trowa promised. Quatre snuggled into Trowa's embrace. Other people may have heard a request to sleep with another person, but Quatre only heard Trowa's request to say goodbye. Hours ago he was sure he'd lose Trowa forever, but now, he would do anything for Trowa to stay. He fell asleep with the older boy thinking about how they had only just started dating earlier that afternoon. How had things gotten so complicated in such a short time? Almost as quickly as he fell asleep he woke in the morning.


	12. A Fear To Lose

So let me start yet again by apologizing for the wait. I'm still not used to my new work schedule. I'm doing the 3-11:30 shift, and I've just been so exhausted and drained that I pass out as soon as I get in my room. I haven't even gotten on the computer for 2 weeks! Thank you to my loyal fans I love you! I might end up adding more than I thought. I forgot that I have a few loose ends to be tied up. I might've said that in a previous chapter, but I can't recall. I'm on the virge of passing out now actually, so I guess I can only hope you'll like this chapter. Next chapter will have lemony goodness So that's something to look forward to. Anyway, rambling again, on with the fic!

"Trowa?" he called out. He looked around and frowned. He thought Trowa would have at least waited until he woke up to leave. He yawned and stretched, trudging out to the kitchen. Hilde, Duo, Heero and Trowa sat there. An assortment of breakfast foods and tea were set up on the table. Quatre smiled.

"You didn't think I'd just leave did you?" Trowa asked. Quatre blushed as Trowa stood and moved over to him. "I love you Quatre, forever," he promised, wrapping his arms around Quatre's waist as he kissed him. Quatre put his arms around Trowa's neck and returned the kiss.

"So did you make breakfast?" Quatre asked.

"Not a chance. If it's not an oven, microwave, or toaster I won't go near it. That is why I order out so much," Trowa answered.

"Heero did the honor of blessing us with his cooking," Duo gloated, draping an arm around his lover.

"Come on Quatre! Sit and eat! We're starving!" Hilde joked. As they sat down to eat they mulled over various small talk; weather, plans for the week, what they thought they might eat for dinner… Things got a little tense then, seeing as how Trowa wasn't going to be there… As dinner approached Quatre stood in the doorway while Trowa changed.

"So you're going now?" he asked, unable to hide his frown. Trowa finished buttoning his shirt and tilted Quatre's chin upward for a kiss.

"Please don't think about it. I'll be back tonight but don't wait up. There are a lot of things I have to talk about with him. I love you Quatre," Trowa whispered, kissing him again. Quatre forced a smile and let Trowa leave, sitting dejectedly in the living room with a book. How could he not think of it? It wasn't what he was going to do; it was the fear that somehow Zechs would persuade him to choose differently…

"I wasn't expecting to see you," Zechs said as he opened the door to his hotel room.

"Don't get your hopes up too high. I've come to tell you I've made my decision," Trowa explained as he entered the room. Zechs shut the door and sat on his bed, expectant. "I chose Quatre," he said. Zechs nodded, as if he'd known all along. "But I read your letters… and… I think you deserve tonight, we deserve tonight as closure for what happened between us…"

"What does that mean exactly?" Zechs asked.

"It means… tonight will be like nothing ever separated us, but in the morning I'm going back to Quatre," Trowa answered, moving closer to the blonde. "I want to lose myself in you tonight," he whispered, standing between his legs.

"Are you sure? Does Quatre know about this?" Zechs asked.

"Yes, to both. I want everything resolved tonight. I…" Trowa began, but stopped.

"I love you Trowa," Zechs said, running his fingers up Trowa's side under his shirts.

"I love you Zechs," Trowa whispered in reply. Zechs maneuvered him on to the bed and straddled him.

"I've missed you. I've been dreaming of you. I've been wishing for this moment for so long," Zechs said softly as he undid the buttons on Trowa's shirt. He almost thought he would wake up and laugh at himself for having such a dream. He kissed down Trowa's jaw line and down his neck eliciting a breathy moan before he stopped. Trowa sat up and looked at him, shirt falling off his shoulders.

"Why did you stop?" Trowa asked.

"Are you doing this to torture me?" Zechs asked. Trowa gave him an incredulous look in reply, looking hurt at the accusation.

"I would never-"

"This doesn't feel wrong to you? You've got Quatre sitting at home while you're here doing this?" Zechs interrupted. Trowa's mouth fell slightly open and took offense to what Zechs was saying.

"I talked with Quatre already. I wanted to give you the closure that he had wanted from me when he thought I would come back to you. I did this so that you wouldn't suffer anymore," Trowa said falling back on the bed. He sighed heavily.

"This… it's what hurt you in the first place. I never told you I loved you and you felt used because of our sexual relationship," Zechs began.

"Why can't I ever make the right choice? I'm always making someone unhappy," Trowa began, getting off the bed completely. He raked his fingers through his hair as he tried to stay composed.

"Trowa, maybe tonight we could do something different," Zechs proposed. Trowa looked angrily in his direction. Zechs stood up and wrapped his arms around the boy from behind. "Please don't be mad. I just don't want to hurt you anymore. I don't want you to remember me as this scar," he whispered, tracing it with his finger. Trowa relaxed into the hold and let his head fall back against Zechs' shoulder.

"What do you want to do then?" Trowa asked.

Quatre sat in the shower under water that had gone cold who knows how long ago. How long had he been sitting in the shower anyway? He got tired of looking out the window. He felt he was invading Heero and Duo's private time. Hilde was working on something for school. Dorothy and Relena weren't going to help. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight, and he couldn't eat. He could see it now…

"_I'm really sorry Quatre, I hope you understand. Something just clicked last night with Zechs, something I thought was severed a long time ago. I love you. I swear that I do. I just think Zechs deserves another chance. I hope we keep in touch. Thank you for everything you've done," Trowa would say. _

He would grab some of his things from Quatre's apartment and then promise to see him tomorrow. Then Quatre would go to the roof and jump off the building… Well probably not, he didn't think he was capable of taking his own life. It didn't matter. If Trowa left him after what he had said, he'd be better use dead than alive. He shut the water off and mulled around the apartment, cleaning things up. He tapped his fingers nervously on the table and felt his heart racing. It was almost 3 am and Trowa still hadn't come back. He buried his face in his hands and started to sob.

Maybe he could cut just a little bit? He wouldn't die; he would just bleed a little. He would see what Trowa felt when he had done it… As he opened the utensil drawer his hands shook. He slammed the drawer shut and screamed.

"How could I even think of doing something like that? What am I thinking? I feel like I'm going crazy!" he yelled to the emptiness around him. Quatre curled up in bed with one of Trowa's shirt and tried to fall asleep. Eventually he passed out, when the sun was coming up through the window.

"Morning," Trowa whispered, brushing the hair out of Quatre's face. Quatre stirred, opening his eyes to see Trowa was in bed with him. "You were crying," he whispered, running his fingertips over Quatre's eyelids. "You thought I wasn't going to come back?" he asked, hurt resonating from the words. Quatre's eyes filled with tears again and his lip quivered as he spoke.

"I thought that if you went to him, you would miss him. That you would want everything to be like it was. What can I offer you that he can't ten times over?" Quatre whimpered.

"Oh Quatre," Trowa murmured, pulling him into his arms. "Why didn't you say something if you weren't alright with it?" he asked, squeezing the blonde even tighter.

"I wanted you to be happy. That's all I ever wanted," Quatre answered.

"I don't want you to forsake your own happiness for me Quatre. Don't you think I want the same thing? I love you Quatre, or didn't you believe me when I said it?" Trowa asked, looking into his eyes.

"I believed you! I… It just got so late and you still weren't home. I got so worried," Quatre explained.

"I'm sorry about that. I thought you'd be sleeping anyway. Zechs didn't want closure in the way I thought he would."

"What were you doing then?"

"He just held me all night and we talked. We talked about a lot of things, mostly about you actually. We ate dinner. While we were lying down we both ended up falling asleep. I came back here as soon as I woke up."

"Then I worried for no reason?"

"I told you that already. Zechs was sure you'd be at home worrying, I guess he was right…"

"Don't feel bad Trowa. Let's just forget about it. You're here now, and you'll always be here. That's all that matters now." Quatre kissed Trowa to keep him from objecting. Trowa pulled the boy on top of him, letting his fingers slip inside the elastic of Quatre's boxers. Quatre jerked upward, turning bright red. "Trowa!" he said less out reprimand and more out of embarrassment.

"Don't you want to?" Trowa asked. Quatre bit his bottom lip. Trowa sat up, arms hanging loosely around Quatre's waist, and began to nibble at Quatre's neck.

"Well I, oh…" Quatre moaned. That spot on his neck, just under his jaw… "How did you… ah…"

"I learned a thing or two about you last night," Trowa whispered. Quatre blushed furiously. "I want to make love to you Quatre, and I want you to only think of me. I don't want there to be any doubt in your mind that I'm always going to be here. I want to drive you crazy with pleasure so you know how sexy you are, and how much I love you. I want you to be mine; completely and totally mine in body and soul. Won't you let me do that?"


	13. Claiming Quatre

Lucky people out there, I actually was in so much pain today I had to leave work. Do you know why that's good for you? Because now I had time to bang out the next chapter! Yeay! I'm so proud of myself! I hope you like this one. Writing it, it seemed like a lot more but I guess not... Any way WARNING! LEMON! MAN + MAN SEX If you don't like that kinda thing, skip to the last like 5 paragraphs.

Quatre only nodded in response. Trowa undid the buttons of Quatre's shirt, pushing it off Quatre's shoulders. Trowa paused to stare. The shirt still hung around his elbows, and pooled around his waist. It made the blonde look _almost_ unbearably sexy. Quatre daringly ground his hips downward. Trowa shivered at the feeling.

"Make me yours," Quatre whispered, moving to kiss Trowa's throat. Trowa moved away playfully, able to get Quatre beneath him. He removed all remaining articles of clothing.

"Do you have any lube?" Trowa asked. Quatre nodded, reaching over to his side table. He pulled the small drawer open and handed a small bottle to Trowa. He popped the lid open and applied it on two fingers. Quatre whimpered as one slippery digit worked its way into him. He was already hard from what Trowa had said to him, but when he felt the fingertip deep inside him he twitched. His arousal was throbbing, begging to be touched into release.

"Trowa," Quatre moaned softly. Trowa smirked at the blonde, kissing down his hip bone to fulfill the unspoken desire. Quatre closed his eyes and bit his lip as he arched into Trowa's wet mouth. He whimpered softly as another finger pressed into him. He could feel Trowa's tongue all over him as he slid in and out of this wet heat. It felt like it had been forever since Trowa had touched him. This time was different though, like Trowa wanted. He felt as though he was the only person in the world, the only thing that mattered to Trowa. As Quatre got closer small spasms of pleasure shot through him. He groaned when Trowa stopped.

"You can be louder than that," Trowa said. It wasn't a suggestion, it was a demand. It kind of turned Quatre on, Trowa being dominant. If being loud was going to make Trowa happy, he would be.

"I want you inside me now," Quatre said in reply. Trowa removed his fingers and used the lube on himself. Quatre got on all fours, looking lustfully back at Trowa who seemed confused. "Make me scream." Trowa knew from experience that this position, although impersonal, was extremely pleasurable. If it was what Quatre wanted, who was he to say no?

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"Mm-hmm." He pushed into Quatre, groaning at how good it felt to be encased in the blonde. His eyes fluttered shut as he allowed Quatre to get used to him. "Move," Quatre whispered. Trowa grasped his hips and started a slow rhythm. Quatre only emitted soft breathy moans, much to Trowa's dismay. "Faster, make me scream," Quatre whispered. Trowa felt goose bumps rise all over his skin. Hearing Quatre speak this way was driving _him _crazy.

He held tighter to the lithe hips of the blonde and increased his speed. Faster and faster, harder and deeper with every thrust. Every movement earned him an equally intense cry. Trowa cried out with Quatre, who teasingly tightened around his shaft. He faltered for a moment. He started using his hold on Quatre's hips to add to their pleasure, pulling Quatre's hips back against him to reach an even deeper place inside the tight blonde.

"Trowa!" Quatre yelled. Sweat beaded on Trowa's forehead. Quatre continued to cry out his lover's name, even slamming backward with every thrust inside of him to make sure Trowa hit his spot every time. "Oh Trowa! Yeah!" Quatre yelled, digging his nails into the pillow.

"Tell me you love me," Trowa panted.

"I love you! I love you Trowa!" Quatre cried out.

"Cum with me," Trowa requested, using his right hand to reach under Quatre to stroke him. They both started shaking, rapidly approaching a high neither of them had ever felt before. "Cum with me Quatre," Trowa whispered.

"Trowa!" Quatre called out, something shattering inside of him. His vision went white. His orgasm was the most mind blowing he had ever experienced. It was the same for Trowa who called Quatre's name just seconds later. The blonde had become almost impossibly tight and he could no longer hold on. He came deep inside his lover, collapsing on top of the heated boy. They were both breathing heavy. Trowa moved to pull out, and roll on to his back so he wasn't crushing Quatre with dead weight.

"You were amazing," Trowa whispered, vision still a little hazy. Quatre tried to laugh but wasn't able to. He let out a small exasperated noise instead. He rolled over to snuggle up to Trowa. He let his eyes close and placed light kisses on Trowa's chest. Trowa wrapped an arm around him.

"I would say you succeeded," Quatre murmured.

"Good, because I don't know how much more convincing I have left in me," Trowa joked. Quatre giggled.

"Maybe later on you could convince me a little more?" Quatre murmured, nibbling on Trowa's earlobe.

"Maybe later you can try it out," Trowa said raising his eyebrows. He smirked at the blush that crept across Quatre's face.

"Do you want me to?" Quatre asked, refusing to make eye contact.

"Of course I do. I want you to make me yours as well," Trowa said, moving into Quatre's view. Quatre finally met his gaze and Trowa kissed him. The only thing that could've ruined the moment was the insistent knocking at the front door. Trowa groaned, clinging to Quatre so he couldn't get out of bed.

"Trowa, someone's at the door," Quatre said, laughing at the brunette.

"No! They'll go away. Stay with me," he pleaded childishly. Quatre managed to get out of bed after some fighting with Trowa's grip on him. He put on his boxers and put Trowa's shirt on again, button only two buttons. Trowa hurriedly put on a tank top and boxers and followed after him. Quatre ran from him, quickly flinging the front door open. He smiled at the girl that stood there, but she wasn't looking at him. She was looking past him. He followed her gaze to Trowa who had frozen, jaw hanging open.

"Trowa," she said softly, tears welling in her eyes.

"Catherine!" he shouted, running forward to hug his sister.


End file.
